


The Unspoken Magic of Saving a Life

by NDKiwi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Birth, Dubious Consent, F/M, Giving Birth, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Minor Character Death, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Pregnancy, Ron Weasley Bashing, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22330840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NDKiwi/pseuds/NDKiwi
Summary: After the dust of the final battle settles, Hermione Granger saves Professor Snapes life using an ancient spell.  Both of their lives are irrevocably changed by her decision, sending them in different directions in the aftermath but along oddly similar paths.  When they meet again, an unlikely friendship blossoms and a romance seems to bloom, but can they survive when the darkness creeps back in and the long buried secrets come to light?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger & Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Luna Lovegood/Rolf Scamander, Snamione - Relationship, Snanger - Relationship
Comments: 136
Kudos: 278





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bakerstbois](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bakerstbois/gifts).



> This is my first Snamione fic. I have been in love with this pairing since forever and have roleplayed it many times. This will be my first multi-chapter fic attempt and i want to thank janto321, hoomhum, Paia (who is my amazing beta), Bel, and meansgirl for all the support. And I cant forget my friend Leviathan for his unending inspiration. I am planning on 7 chapters and an epilogue but if the words move me I may do more.

The sounds of the battle were dying away, replaced by the sounds of despair and relief as Hermione made her way carefully through the partially collapsed tunnel towards the Shrieking Shack. Voldemort was defeated, his remaining followers were either arrested or had fled and the light stood victorious but not without considerable loss. 

Lavender Brown had been mauled by Greyback, poor Colin Creevey had snuck back, only wanting to fight with his heroes and was felled by a killing curse from an unknown combatant. Some fifty other students had been caught up in the battle and lost their lives. The death of Fred Weasley was devastating for all, especially for George who was alone for the first time since his brief stint solo in the womb after Fred's birth. 

The survivors had brought all of the fallen to the Great Hall after things had begun to settle and that was the first time that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had found out about Tonks’ and Lupin’s deaths at the hands of Dolohov and Bellatrix. Harry broke down at the sight of the couple laid side by side, together even in death.Ron fell into his mother's arms at the side of his slain brother, unable to console George. Hermione wandered around the hall, checking on survivors and paying respect to the dead before looping back to spend some time with the Weasleys as they mourned their loss and grieve with Harry. 

Looking around the room at the ones they had lost, she suddenly realized that no one had retrieved the body of Professor Snape. No one but the trio knew what had happened in the shack and Harry had only briefly mentioned the memories he had viewed in the pensieve but Snape deserved to be remembered as well. She told Harry she was going to help out in the grounds to search for more survivors and victims but stole away to the tunnel under the Whomping Willow instead. 

This far away it was eerily silent, the smell of dust and blood thick in the air as she made her way up to the derelict room. There was no reason to be quiet but Hermione stepped carefully, reverently across the creaking floorboards to the dark mass on the floor, barely noticeable in the dim light breaking through grimy windows.

“Lumos,” she whispered as she approached Snape’s body and knelt beside him, careful to avoid the large pool of congealing blood surrounding him. The bite wound on his pale throat looked more like a gash and even though hours had passed, the blood seemed to still flow sluggishly. She frowned and furrowed her brow. It shouldn’t be doing that. Then a gurgle startled her so much that she fell over, dropping her wand. She scrambled to right herself and fumbled for her wand, moving the lit tip closer to his face. His eyes remained closed but there seemed to be movement behind them. She lifted an eyelid tentatively and the pupil contracted in the light followed by a second gurgle. Bloody hell, he was alive! Without hesitation she plunged her fingers into the bloody mess of a neck and found a faint pulse. 

“Professor. It’s Hermione Granger. I’m here. I'll do what I can. I'll call someone.” As she lifted her wand to send her patronus, a cold hand grasped her wrist weakly and she looked down. Eyes still closed, Severus Snape shook his head with an enormous effort and mouthed ‘You’ silently and then fell still once again. An internal argument took place rather quickly. On one hand, if she didn’t get help, he may die. Even then, transporting him might do him in. On the other hand, perhaps she could stabilise him before moving him. With a deep breath, Hermione righted herself and began to run diagnostic tests to determine what was wrong. Besides the tremendous blood loss, it seemed he had venom flowing through him, one she couldn't identify. It also showed that his magical energy was severely depleted and unable to recharge. He must have tried to heal himself, accounting for him still being on the brink of death and have yet to fall over.

With shaking hands that had nothing to do with the cold seeping through her muggle clothing, she began to rummage around in her pockets to see if she had any potions on her and cursed inwardly that she didn't have her little beaded bag. She had kept it on her for the better part of a year and when she needed it now, it was gone. Apologizing in a near whisper, she began to carefully pat down Snapes robes in search of anything. She found a small green vial and held it up to the dying light to see a grey liquid swirling inside. 

A movement in her periphery her brought her attention down to the man beside her. He raised a finger, eyes open the merest of slits, and pointed at the bottle and then at his throat. She furrowed her brow and then it dawned on her. Of course. He had known of Nagini’s poison since she attacked Arthur Weasley in the Department of Mysteries in fifth year. He knew that Voldemort was likely to use her to attack. An accomplished Master Potioneer would have done all they could to find an antivenin and it seems he may have. And a spy would always keep an ace up his sleeve. 

Hoping she was interpreting him correctly she pulled the cork and pried his mouth open, pouring the watery substance down his throat. His body sagged a bit, relaxing into the floor but no adverse side effects seemed to follow the dosing. Sitting back on her heels she fought with exhaustion and the injuries she had sustained during the battle. All she wanted to do was to hide away and not be the strong one anymore. Why was it always up to her? She wanted to cry and sleep and mourn and eat and run away but she couldn’t. Not now. Shaking her head to clear away the thoughts that would help no one, she began to plan.

Her brain was working overtime. She had to do what she could and no simple magic spell could fix this. He needed a transfer of Magical Energy. He needed to be brought back from where he was and she wasn't sure she could do it. Then a thought came to her, was she a witch or not? Was she not heralded as the brightest witch of her age? She was the one who studied dark tomes to find and research ancient magics nearly forgotten by modern wizarding society. She was the one that Snape had asked to help, so he must have known she would be his best bet. Closing her eyes, she went through her considerable library of knowledge until she remembered something she came across while searching for information on Horcruxes in Secrets of the Darkest Art, a book she had ‘borrowed’ from the library. It involved two of the most questioned and frowned upon forms of magic: blood and sex. 

Hermione knew no one else would even attempt this spell, as it required the caster to be pure and she fit the bill in that regard. No one else would have quickly weighed the pros and cons of performing such magic, simply determining it too much, perhaps too dark. But Hermione did. And the pros far outweighed the cons in this case. Her only worry was one of consent. Snape wasn’t exactly in the position to say yes. But it had to be done and now. Taking a deep breath she removed her jeans and underwear, casting a warming charm over them both as she scrambled to move his robes and open his blood soaked trousers, shoving them down only as much as would be needed. She knew this was not an act that would bring either of them the pleasure that a normal coupling would so she had to resort to a charm to get him hard. Nervously, she climbed over and straddled his lap, taking him in hand and hovering above him as she said the incantation. “Tibi corpus meum de, castitatem, et vitam*.” 

The last word spoken, Hermione sunk down on him with a small whimper of pain. Tears welled at the corners of her eyes as she bit her cheeks to stop from crying. After taking some deep, calming breaths she began to move. All of her weight was on her feet and calves as she lifted up and lowered herself in shallow movements. Hermione tried to think about anything that might make this more enjoyable for her but it was impossible. It bloody well hurt. But this wasn't about her and she had to come to grips with that. Harry had told her and Ron about the memories, of Snape's sacrifices. 

This was not about romance or love, this was the act to save the life of the man who helped to defeat the Dark Lord. The wizard who had been terribly used by both the light and dark for so long that he had never gotten a chance to live life his own way. The one who deserved it beyond almost all others. Hermione swallowed back her tears once again and moved faster, the burning ache in her legs threatened to give in. Before that could happen though, she felt him twitch under her and knew that even in his unconscious, near dead state, his body was still reacting to the warmth and tightness around him and soon, he spilled inside her with a slightly pained groan. She stilled her hips, panting softly, and spoke the incantation once more. “Tibi corpus meum de, castitatem, et vitam.”

There was a kick up in the air and the dirt swirled slightly as Hermione felt an electricity flowing between them. Her back arched as her head fell back and she experienced her own unbidden release. The magic in the room reached its peak and exploded silently, the grimy boarded windows blowing out as she slumped, spent and gasping, over Snape’s still body. Her heart pounded and her breath was ragged from a combination of exertion and the adrenaline still thrumming through her from the spell. Muscles aching and slightly dizzy, Hermione eased herself off of him, grimacing as she felt the wet between her legs and seeping from her. 

She felt dirty as she winced at the flare of pain between her legs. Looking down she saw the tinge of pink mingled with the rest of his release an a shiver ran up her spine at the visible proof of her deflowering. A hasty cleansing spell on both of them removed any sign of their coupling and she ran another diagnostic spell. Snape’s breathing had improved and his magical core seemed to be stronger. At least it seemed to have worked. Had there been no improvement and she had just done that, the shame would have been too much to bear. 

The last thing she needed to do was a memory charm. It would do neither of them any favours for him to remember what she had to do to save him. Hermione knew she had to be careful. Severus Snape was a brilliant man and she had to cut out only the bits about this time with surgical precision so she didn’t damage any of his other memories. She had become proficient in them after deciding to erase herself from her parents memories to save them. Taking her vinewood wand, Hermione pointed it at Snape’s temple. She took a few calming breaths to steady her hand and spoke. “Obliviate.” Satisfied she had done all she could on her own to save his life and frankly needing a , she put their clothes to rights and gathered the man into her arms, pulling him up to lay almost over her shoulder and turned on the spot. Voldemort and his death eaters had destroyed the wards surrounding the Hogwarts grounds in the fight which allowed Hermione to apparate directly into the partially destroyed hospital wing with her patient in her arms.

“Madam Pomfrey! Someone! We need help!” She shouted as she lowered Snape onto an empty bed. There was a rush of movement as the matron hurried over, followed by a dirty and disheveled Professor McGonagall. “He was attacked by Nagini. I found an antivenin on him and it seemed to have helped. He has lost so much blood. Please help him.” She pleaded.

“My dear girl, you need to be looked at as well.” McGonagall hastened to her side as Hermione lost steam and slumped against her. She had been weak before and had just given away a huge amount of energy and magic. She was helped to her own bed and fell into an uneasy sleep. When she woke, she was informed that Snape had been moved to St. Mungos. That was for the better, she thought. Out of sight, out of mind. 

When Madam Pomfrey released her the next day, Hermione vowed to never speak of what had transpired and to not seek out the man whose life she had just saved. She didn't want him to feel indebted to her and no doubt the magic she had used would disgust all who learned of it. No. Hermione would just move on and forward. Make a difference in the world and prevent something like this happening again. She straightened her back and exhaled as she walked into the Great Hall to be greeted by Ron and Harry, quickly followed by the other survivors. Hermione allowed herself to be caught up in the crowd, glad of the distraction. The future was theirs and there was work to do.

________________

*Tibi corpus meum de, castitatem, et vitam: I give you my body, my purity, and my life.  
(Thank you to my friend JF for the translation help)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The future is Hermione's but what road will she take?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, thank you to Paialovespie for the beta.

The days and weeks after the war were a whirlwind for Hermione. No sooner had she, Ron, and Harry been cleared by St. Mungos, they were whisked away to the Ministry for formal statements and debriefing. Days were spent in cramped offices either alone with Aurors or Magical Law Enforcement workers, or sat together waiting for the next barrage of questions. At some point, Harry was able to tell them everything that had happened from the time they were separated. Snape's memories in full, seeing his parents, Lupin, and Sirius when he put the ring on, the conversation with Dumbledore when Harry was hovering between life and death, and Narcissa’s betrayal of Voldemort in order to save Draco.

It was a lot to take in and Hermione and Ron filled Harry in on going to the Chamber of Secrets and getting the Basilisk fang. They were exhausted, physically as well as mentally and emotionally and all they wanted to do was to get away from this circus to some place where they could rest, recoup, and mourn. There was only so many times they could tell the same story before it lost all meaning.

Hermione's retellings became more robotic as the days wore on and when they were all together in the small anteroom on the sixth day of questioning, she snapped. Kingsley had come out and introduced another foreign wizard in a never ending line of people who purportedly needed to hear it from their own mouths. She stood suddenly, nearly tipping the chair over as magic crackled in the air around her.

“NO! Not another bloody person! We are done! You can’t hold us here like criminals and force us to relieve some of the most traumatic moments of our lives over and over again for your own amusement!” she hissed. If she had shouted, she couldn't have gotten her point across any more clearly. “We. Are. Leaving. Come on Ron, Harry,” Hermione ordered as she turned on her heel, leaving them little choice but to follow. Kinglsey and the foreign guest stood with mouths agape as the door closed behind them. She would deal with the repercussions later but for now, they just needed to get away. Not pausing until they reached the apparition foyer, Hermione's breath was a bit ragged as she grabbed both boys hands as they caught up, closed her eyes and spun on the spot.

With a sharp ‘CRACK’ they landed just outside the gates of the Burrow and collapsed into a heap of tangled limbs. They untangled themselves from each other and drug their feet down the hill to the rebuilt home. A still-bruised and bedraggled looking Molly rushed out to meet them.

“Oh my sweet Circe. Ron, Harry, oh Hermione! Come in. Come in.” She ushered the silent trio into the empty kitchen and set about making tea and food. Hermione hadn’t realized she was hungry until her nose was filled with the potato and leek soup that Mrs. Weasley was cooking. The knives chopped and the spoons stirred of their own accord as Hermione dropped her head on her folded arms on the table. The voices around her had her nearly lulled to sleep. She hadn't had a proper night’s rest in almost a year at this point, and after mucking around the countryside in search of horcruxes, she had gotten used to being uncomfortable anytime they bunked down. She would have been more comfortable sleeping on a pile of doxie eggs than the lumpy mattresses in the tent. She was gently shaken from her doze by Mrs. Weasley as she set a bowl of steaming soup and a plate of fresh bread in front of her. “Eat up, all of you. There is more if you need.”

“Mum, you are a saint,” Ron groaned out as he began spooning the food into his mouth with abandon. Harry thanked her as well and dug in. Hermione, though, was just drained. She ate only half the serving she had been given and then yawned wide, barely able to cover her mouth. The Weasley matriarch didn’t miss a beat as she sidled up.

“Ginny’s room is empty. She is staying at George’s to help him go through Fred’s things and get the shop running again. You and Harry are welcome to stay as long as you need to. Off you pop.”

Hermione didn’t need telling twice, and she headed up the crooked staircase to the first floor landing. Opening the door, she looked around at the pink walls covered with posters of Gwennog Jones and the wizarding band The Weird Sisters. She barely registered the thin layer of dust that covered every surface before she flopped, fully clothed, onto the bed and succumbed to her exhaustion.

When she woke, Hermione was disoriented. She sat up groggily and wiped the sleep from her eyes before she glanced towards the window to see the sun still up. She took in her surroundings and remembered where she was. Figuring she had only slept a few hours at most, she stood and stretched before heading downstairs again. Arthur Weasely sat at the table reading the Daily Prophet and drinking coffee. Hermione could she herself beside Ron and Harry, splashed across the front page in a photo that had been snapped as they entered the Ministry that first day after the battle. She was relieved to see that her photo counterpart snarled at the photographer and tried to knock the camera out of their hand. Hiding a smirk, she sat down and Mr. Weasley jumped.

“Good lord, Hermione. Nearly gave me a heart attack.” He dropped the paper and a hand rested on his chest. “I didn’t hear you come down here. Did you sleep well?”

Hermione nodded as she poured herself some coffee. “It was nice to be in a real bed for once. How long was I asleep? Are Ron and Harry still asleep?”

“No dear, they are at Hogwarts helping with repairs. Molly is at Andromeda's helping to get Teddy settled. They all thought it would be better than sitting around wallowing.” He answered and picked the paper up to fold it properly and set it aside. “You, well you have been asleep for the better part of three days.”

“Three days?!?” Hermione blinked in confusion. There must have been a mistake. She frowned and cast a quick Tempus charm and sure enough, it showed that it was now three days since she had pulled the boys from the Ministry and apparated here. “How..? I mean, why would you let me sleep so long? There is so much I should be doing. So much I need to…”

“The only thing you need to do is rest and get your life back.” Mr. Weasley said softly in a fatherly tone that soothed her. “You have done enough, all of you and when we checked on you we noticed how far your magical core had been depleted and we let you sleep. The world is still spinning and can last a few more hours without you, Hermione. You need to eat a good meal and take a moment to figure out what your next steps will be.

“There are so many options ahead of you and for the first time since you stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express at the tender age of eleven, you are not hurtling towards some destiny far greater and more dangerous than you could ever imagine. This is your time.”

He took a deep breath and glanced at the clock. He drained his glass and stood. “I must be getting to the Ministry. We are voting on whether or not to swear Kingsley in as Minister today. Take time to eat, clean up, change, and think. There is a letter that came yesterday for you on the mantle. Be well, Hermione.” He smiled and dropped a hand to her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before leaving.

Hermione let his words sink in as she stood and set about making a fry up. Having no one else around was a blessing for her sanity but in a home that was used to the ruckus of a large and rambunctious family, the silence echoed louder than anything else. She only managed to eat a third of the food she had made, placing the rest in stasis and in the fridge. She knew it would take a while to get her appetite back after nearly a year of missing or meager meals of whatever they could scrounge up. The next order of business was a shower. The old pipes groaned to life as she stripped from her clothes. The hot water ran down her bruised skin and she sighed and shivered. After shampooing her hair and putting liberal amounts of conditioner in the unruly mass of curls, she checked to see how her injuries were healing. There was an abundance of scrapes and bumps that were scabbed over but clean, and the smattering of bruises were in the sickly green stage of healing.

She grabbed a cloth and began to scrub her skin, washing away the last remnants of the battle. As she reached down to wash her groin, she winced slightly. It was the only thing that still stung. She knew it was because she had not told the healers about it, and so they had not given her any potions or salves to deal with the pain. With a sigh Hermione finished washing and rinsed, stepping out from the tub and performing a drying charm on her hair and used a towel to dry her body. She found an unopened toothbrush in the drawer and brushed her teeth before putting her hair in a messy braid and rummaged around Ginny’s room for some clothes that may fit. After she felt half human in some blue leggings and a Weird Sisters t-shirt, Hermione padded down to the sitting room to find the letter that was left for her. She tucked her legs underneath her in the armchair nearest to the fireplace and opened the envelope.

_Miss Granger,_

_I hope this letter finds you well. I know that it has been, well, hell the last few weeks and I wanted to see if you might agree to have tea with me at your leisure. I would like to speak to you about your future and lend an understanding and sympathetic ear to someone I hope to consider a friend more than a former student._

_Work on the physical repairs of the castle and grounds are moving along as quickly as is possible and soon enough we will need to work on re-warding the entire grounds. It is not a task that will be easy to undertake, given that two of my the most powerful wizards and protectors of the school are no longer able to assist, but we will take our time and tap into whatever resources we need to make sure it is as safe and secure as it was before, if not more so._

_I digress. I look forward to hearing from and hopefully seeing you soon._

_Gratefully Yours,_   
_Minerva McGonagall_   
_Headmistress_   
_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Hermione read the letter through twice before setting it aside with a sigh. It would be nice to speak to someone who could understand a bit better how her mind worked and be able to get some ideas as to the steps she should now take. The fireplace was cold as she approached it. Pointing her wand at it is she spoke. “Incendio.” A roaring fire erupted in the hearth and she reached for a pinch of floo powder from the little container on the mantle and tossed it in. The flames flared bright green before she knelt before it.

“Headmistresses office. Hogwarts.” She spoke clearly and stuck her head in the fire. The flames licked at her face, tickling her slightly with their cool tongues. When the office came into view, Hermione saw that Professor McGonagall was behind her desk and had looked up when the floo activated.

“Miss Granger. I rather expected an own in a few days time rather than a floo call. I assume you are replying to my letter.” The newly appointed Headmistress acknowledged her. Her scottish brogue was edged with the same exhaustion Hermione felt herself. “Come through, if you would like.”

“Thank you, Professor. I mean Headmistress. Just give me a moment.” Hermione pulled back and hurried up to Ginny's room to grab her shoes and handbag and went back down. She stepped through the flames, stomach rolling with the food she had eaten as she spun through the ether. She only stumbled slightly and brushed some soot from her jeans and smiled warmly.

“Thank you for seeing me right away. I don't mean to intrude.” She took a seat in the chair provided. The sounds of the rebuilding and people working to get the castle back in order filtered in through the high window from the grounds. Hermione looked up and thought she could pick up Hagrid’s booming voice and the lumbering of Grawp, the barks of Fang and the sound of spells being cast. Her focus was pulled back by McGonagall’s voice.

“It is a never ending cacophony out there but one does seem to get used to it,” the Headmistress commented after putting down her quill and noticing Hermione's distracted gaze. “Would you like tea or perhaps a snack?”

“I just ate and, well, my stomach didn’t like the floo trip here I’m afraid. Thank you though.” Hermione explained with a bit of a shrug. Her hands found each other in her lap and she straightened her back. “You wanted to talk about my future plans?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Well I know there has been a lot of…” she paused, searching for the proper word. “Speculation, I suppose you could say, as to what you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley will do now that you are all of age and the war seems to be won. There are a great many options and roads for you to traverse and I, for one, was hoping to help you decide.”

“I appreciate that very much. I have to be honest when I say I’m not actually sure what my options are. I missed my N.E.W.T. year so that limits me quite a bit.” Hermione rummaged in her handbag and pulled out a piece of parchment and quill. “You don't mind if I take notes do you?”

“No, my dear. Some things never change,” McGonagall gave a little smile and reached in her desk and pulled out a scroll and another pamphlet. “Well you have several options ahead of you. This,” she held up the scroll, “was delivered to me to give to you. It seems all three of you have gotten it.” She handed it to Hermione who opened it.

_Miss Hermione Jean Granger_

_The Ministry of Magic would like to formally offer its thanks and unending gratitude for the sacrifices you have made for the sake of the Wizarding world as a whole. You have shown tremendous strength, loyalty, and power. The knowledge you possess continues to astound even those who have known you the longest and continues to grow._

_In gratitude and due to the above mentioned attributes, we would be delighted to have you join the staff at the Ministry in any department you choose. We have been told you have an affinity for House Elf welfare so you may enjoy a position in the Department for the Regulation of Magical Creatures. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement would also thrive with a witch of your standing on their team of Aurors. The choice is yours._

_We do look forward to hearing your response. Thanks can never be enough for what you have done and been through._

_Yours, Very Sincerely,_   
_Kinglsey Shacklebolt_   
_Interim Minister of Magic_

When Hermione finished reading it, her face was blank. She controlled the urge to incinerate the parchment and finally looked back up at McGonagall.

“Can I assume by the fact that you are not jumping up and down in utter joy, that you have no desire to join the Ministry at this time?” McGonagall said with a slight smirk unable to be hidden.

“They never learn do they? They don't want us because they think we are qualified enough or would make a good member of any department. They want us to be there as assets. As trophies. Someone they can flaunt around to save face. Just like Fudge and Scrimgeour wanted with Harry when things started to fall apart.” Hermione raged, the parchment clutched in her flailing hand. “I thought Kingsley would be better.”

“I’m sure he will be, Miss Granger. But right now there is a lot on his plate and he has his own higher-ups to answer to. I agree with your assessment though. As did Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley, on the other hand was ecstatic. Truth be told, and this stays between you, me, and the sorting hat, but I doubt he would have had a better offer if he had stayed and done his tests.” The older woman admitted in a low conspiratorial voice. Hermione could concede to that. Had she not helped him out so much, he probably wouldn’t have made it through his O.W.L.’s.

“So option number one is out. I also have no desire to simply seek out employment in the world at large.” She sighed heavily. “Frankly I have no marketable skills beyond books. And I am not going to be some housewitch that cleans, cooks, and pumps out a quidditch team worth of children. Not that I don't want children, of course, just not right now.”

“Nonsense, my dear. I understand your sentiment but you have no need to rush any of that. Now another option you have, and one that Mr. Potter has chosen, is to return this September and complete your seventh year and take your N.E.W.T.’s along with several of your classmates. Mr. Potter has decided to do this because I believe he and Miss Weasley wish to be together. I can’t blame them for that.”

“Nor can I. I guess I just worry that I would feel out of place back in school after everything.” Hermione made a few more notes. She worried at her bottom lip. Going back to school did seem the best option. She sighed heavily. “I will need to think on these options. If I wanted to take the tests on my own, would that be possible?”

“Of course. You would be sent the required study materials list as well as syllabi from the subjects you would choose to sit a test.” McGonagall explained. “And with your exemplary scholastic achievements, I see no reasons why this would be an issue. I’m sure all the professors here, myself included, would be willing to do tutoring by owl as needed, as well. But there is one more option that is exclusively being given to you. Albus’ portrait and I have discussed it in length and would be remiss if we did not offer for you to come back as part of the staff. You could take on an apprenticeship with one of the professors or work with Madam Pince in the Library. We would be delighted to have you as a junior professor and teach some classes to the younger students at first.”

Hermione sat dumbfounded for a few moments before she caught herself. “That, oh wow. That is an amazing offer too. I am honoured you would consider me for that sort of position. This is quite a lot to try to wade through. I need some time to figure it out. Make lists, research, all the typical Hermione things.” She chuckled. It was all a bit overwhelming, if she was honest. “I don’t know what my place in the world is supposed to be and now that there isn’t this big end goal looming over me, I must admit I feel lost.” She shrugged in acceptance.

“And that is a very valid way to feel about your life, given what you have been through. I doubt anyone besides you, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Potter can understand what you have had to deal with. Except perhaps Severus.” At the mention of his name, Hermione flinched inwardly. “This is not a decision that you have to make immediately. Take the time to make sure it is the right one for you. And I will always be just a floo away.”

“Thank you Headmistress. It means so much that you feel that way.” Hermione stood, stowing the notes and quill away. “I'll let you know if I have any more questions and when I have made my decision.” She walked over to the fireplace and tossed the powder in the fire once again. Before she could step into the swirling emerald flames, arms wrapped around her in a hug. McGonagall had moved with stealth and swiftness that belayed her nearly eighty years of age. Hermione was taken by surprise and barely suppressed the instinct to hex the person.

“Thank you for saving Severus.” McGonagall said with sadness in her voice. “He deserve better than any of us gave him. Now we can make reparations.” As quickly as she had been grabbed Hermione was free. With a sniffle, the Headmistress straightened her dark robes and stood back. “Be well Miss Granger.”

“You as well, Headmistress.” Hermione gave a strained but sincere smile and, as her racing heart began to calm, she stepped into the fire and swirled away. Once back at the burrow and standing steady on her own to feet, her stomach heaved. Flooing that quickly after a larger meal than she had eaten in months topped with all the nerves and excitement heaped on her from the meeting did her no favours and she only just made it up to the toilet to empty her stomach's contents. As she sat on the cool floor, head leaned back against the wall, eyes closed as she willed her stomach to settle, she thought of Severus. McGonagall had been so right. He deserved so much more than anything she or anyone else had given him. Saving his life was the first time anyone had done something that solely benefited him and had not been done for a grander scheme.

Her stomach finally settled and Hermione stood, rinsing her mouth and washing her hands. It was time for her to make some tough decisions. She gathered her notes and spread them out on the floor of Ginny's room. Tying her hair back in a messy knot, she set to work making lists. The house was still quiet and she figured she had plenty of time without interruptions to do some research. This time her life was her own and she wouldn’t squander it for anyone else. The future was bright and she couldn’t wait to see what was in store.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione comes to a heart wrenching but not unexpected realization about the future of the relationship between her and Ron. Deciding to get out on her own comes with perks but having a rather intuitive Ginny Weasley as a friend brings the brightest witch of her age to her knees. Can she still move forward when the recent past comes back to haunt her?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter there is a characterization of Ron that some may not like. I am not a Ron hater but also don’t care all that much for him as a partner for my Hermione (as one may have already guessed).

Hermione stayed at the Weasleys’ for a few days before choosing to go to Grimmauld Place alone. Harry and Ron had been in and out of the Burrow on occasion, and when she mentioned that she wanted to leave while they sat in Ron's room one night, Harry offered her the house.

“Honestly, Hermione, it’s fine. I don’t have a lot of good memories there at the moment and I'll be here or at the school until classes start anyway. Take it.” He promised her. “You coming back for classes?”

“I think so. It seems the best course of action for me.”

“Why? You two were offered a great deal. The job of your choice at the Ministry. Lots of money to be made. Why go back to school?” Ron sneered.

“Because, Ronald, some of us value things beyond money.” Hermione bit back. She wanted to be mean but frankly she was tired. Had been for days no matter how much she slept. “Thank you Harry. I'll move my things there tonight.” 

Harry hugged her and then went to grab some dinner before he and Ron headed back to Hogwarts. Hermione smiled to herself. She longed for peace and quiet and, no matter how much she loved the Weasley clan, she needed her own space. Staying at Grimmauld Place would save her money until she was done with school and could get a flat of her own. She stood from her place on the edge of Ron's bed and took a few steps towards the door when Ron darted a hand out to grab her wrist. Hermione flinched and pulled it away immediately. He had inadvertently grabbed her still-tender left arm that bore the nearly healed scars from Bellatrix Lestrange’s attack. She spun to look at him, instinctively holding her arm to her chest.

“Come on ‘Mione. Everyone’s downstairs and we are the only ones up here. Why don’t we try a bit more of that snogging we did during the battle. It's been a month. You have got to be ready to move this thing forward as much as I am.” Ron said with a dirty sort of smile. 

“Excuse me?” Hermione said in shock. She couldn’t believe he had just said that to her, now. 

“Oh stop playing dumb, you know what I’m saying. We danced around each other for seven years. It was obvious that you liked me, so why haven’t you approached me since the battle?” Hermione blinked in disbelief at his words.

“It was obvious? You mean to everyone but you? And now you think I’ll, what exactly? Drop my panties for you like some common whore?” She spat the words at him, a sudden realization about the person she had pined for all those years rattling around her head.

“That's not what I meant. Merlin, Hermione, we are meant to be together. Everyone says it. Two thirds of the Golden Trio. We would be the power couple of the century.” He moved forward and tried to pull her into his arms. “And think of the magical power your children would have.”

Hermione tore herself away from him in disgust. “Is that all you want me for? The fame I bring you and as a broodmare? I don’t know you at all.”

“Don’t be like that, ‘Mione. We would be good together. In the world and in the bedroom.” Ron comically waggled his eyebrows and she didn’t even realize her hand was moving until it connected with his cheek with a resounding SMACK! 

“Oi! What the hell was that for?” He yelled as he brought his hand up to the red spot on his skin.

“I am not a whore, Ronald Weasley, and I now see that all you want is a piece of arm candy that looks pretty for pictures and spends her nights on her back for your pleasure!” Hermione’s voice cracked with rage and sadness. “I am neither of those things and you are so much less than I deserve.” 

“If I only wanted a pretty witch to warm my bed, I'd have picked one of the ones that have been doing it since the end of the War.” Ron sneered at her. “And I definitely wouldn't have picked a repressed bitch like you.”

The tears Hermione had been holding back flowed freely then and with a quick swish of the wand she had in her pocket, Ron flew backwards and toppled over his bed onto the floor. Hermione turned and fled the room. She summoned all her things into her trunk in Ginny's room and shrunk it to the size of a postage stamp before slipping it in her pocket. She couldn’t face anyone else so, after one last glance around the room, she spun on her heel and apparated to the brightly sunlit square outside #12 Grimmauld Place.

Settling in was easier than it had been at the Weasley’s’. She took the room closest to the library and spent the first few days trying to find a way to unstick Mrs. Black’s portrait from the wall. Finally she just cast a permanent sticking charm to the curtains that covered it so they would never open and an everlasting muffliato surrounding it. She ran to the muggle shops to get groceries and other supplies and as she reached the feminine hygiene aisle, she realized the date and frowned. She had completely missed her last cycle but shook it off. Her periods had been messed up since they went off in search of horcruxes. She knew stress and life changing events altered one’s cycle so she just figured it would even out again in time. She grabbed some just in case and grabbed some nausea medication again. Her stomach was still so weak after apparition and floos calls.

Harry and Ginny stopped by a week later to tell her they had gotten engaged. Hermionie was happy for them, even though she felt a twinge of jealousy at their happiness. When asked what happened with Ron, she gave them the Cliff’s Notes, and Harry had to hold Ginny back from apparating to the Burrow and casting a strong Bat-Bogey hex on him. They celebrated the engagement with a good meal and a bottle of wine but when the cork was removed, just the smell of the Cabernet sent her fleeing to the bathroom. When she returned, Ginny sent Harry to fetch something to settle her stomach from the corner store and then gave Hermione a knowing look.

“How far along are you?” Ginny asked with a serious look on her face. Hermione frowned in confusion, her large brain not catching on.

“Far along? In what? My summer work? Classes? I don’t know what you are talking about, Gin.” She said honestly, tilting her head to the side slightly.

“Don’t be daft, Hermione. I know what pregnancy looks like.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “Is it Ron’s? I thought you hadn’t had sex.”

Hermione didn’t answer her though. She was too busy blinking as her brain ground to a halt at the realization of what had been happening to her. Her clothes were tighter but she had chalked it up to finally getting full meals. The nausea and illness she attributed to the same thing, as well as the amount of magical travel she had been doing lately. Even when she realized she was late, she didn’t put two and two together. Or when she did she got 76, not pregnancy.

“Hermione? Hey, come back to me…” Ginny was holding her arms and gently shaking her.

“I'm pregnant.” Was all Hermione was able to say as her eyes filled with tears and she met Ginny's gaze with a mix of terror and sadness. “I...I..” She tried to speak again but the tears broke their levies and she collapsed against her friend's chest and sobbed.

“Shh. It’s gonna be ok. You have options. And you won’t be alone in this.” Ginny soothed her, holding Hermione as she let out all the emotion that had been festering and buried deep for so long. “Now who do we need to contact? To let them know they will be a father.”

Hermione's head shot up and she shook it vigorously. “No one. Nobody. I...I just can’t.” 

“But why? They have a responsibility here, too. You didn’t get this way on your own and, unless they are a coward, they need to be part of this. Even if it's just support.” Ginny reasoned wisely but Hermione still shook her head. “Unless this was done TO you. Were you attacked, Hermione? Is that why you won’t tell me who did this?”

“Who did what?” Came Harry’s voice from the doorway before Hermione could answer. He saw his friend's tear streaked face and his frown deepened as he moved closer. “What happened? Did Ron do something again?”

“No. Nothing like that, Harry. Calm down.” Chided Ginny. “Hermione has just had a shocking realization is all.”

“About what? What could make you this upset, Hermione?” Harry’s voice was softer now, filled with concern.

“I...I think I might be pregnant.” Admitting it out loud for the first time helped to steady her and Hermione steeled her nerves as she pulled back from Ginny and wiped her face on the sleeve of her jumper. “I should probably go see someone to make sure.”

“Well who’s the father? Not Ron, so who?” Harry echoed Ginny’s questions. With a sigh Ginny shifted to make room on the sofa for Harry to sit next to her. 

“She doesn’t want to tell us.”

“Why not? Did someone hurt you, ‘Mione? Force you into something?” Harry demanded, still fighting to keep his voice even, though only just. “We will hunt them down. Bring them to justice if…”

“For Merlin’s sake you two, I wasn’t raped,” Hermione assured them firmly. She swallowed hard, thinking fast to come up with some excuse to avoid telling them about what really happened in the Shrieking Shack with Professor Snape. “It was a one night thing, after the war. I went to a muggle bar after a brutal day of questioning and just wanted to forget. I had a bit too much and went to a stranger's place and had sex. I left almost as soon as he fell asleep. I never caught his name and don’t even honestly remember what he looked like, ok?” There, that was an easy enough explanation, and one that was believable, even to her own ears.

Harry and Ginny took it in and glanced at each other and back at their friend. “War makes smart people dumb things.” Harry finally said with a slight shrug. “But that doesn’t mean you have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to keep the baby. You’re smart, and I know you will do what is best for you. And Ginny and I,” he took his fiance's hand, “will be there for you every step of the way.”

“Thank you. That means so much. I don’t really have anyone else to go to. My parents are in Australia. When Ron and your family find out I’m pregnant, if I am pregnant, I’m sure they will hate me.” Hermione took a deep breath. “I'm sorry I ruined your celebration.”

“Nonsense. This is what family is. What it does. Do you want us to stay the night with you?” Ginny offered. 

“No, I need to start making arrangements. First thing is a visit to a doctor,” Hermione explained as she began to make lists in her head, hands itching for a quill to write them down.

“Go to Pomfrey. She would be happy to help.” Suggested Harry. “She’s known us so long and she has seen and dealt with so much.”

“As much as that is true, I think I’ll go to a Muggle OB/GYN. I don’t need Rita Skeeter and the Daily Prophet splashing my face all over it with some disgustingly lurid headline. Especially if I’m not pregnant.”

“That makes sense.” The three of them stood. “Well we will go then and we will keep your secret, it is yours to tell after all. And Hermione,” Harry reached out and took her hand, “ we will support you no matter your choice. Always.” 

Hermione hugged them both at the door and watched them disappear in a pop of apparition just at the bottom of the steps. She turned back inside and moved through the house in a daze. After the spell, she had been so worried about getting Snape back to the castle and had then been shuffled around the Ministry so soon after, that she hadn’t even thought of using the morning after charm. She hadn’t used a contraceptive potion or charm before because she didn’t know if it would affect the spell in any way and didn’t want to risk it. Now she was left with the very real possibility that she was carrying his child and she couldn't’ figure out why it didn’t terrify her more.

She was only just nineteen and alone. Hermione knew that a lot of people she considered at least acquaintances, not to mention those who looked down on her out of jealousy or because of her muggleborn status, would think she was irresponsible. How could the brains of the ‘Saviours of the Wizarding World’ end up knocked up by some muggle stranger she met in a bar? But she had endured worse, and this was just another note in a long list of things she did that people disapproved of. It's not like she could tell the truth either. That she was carrying Severus Snape's baby. Hermione shook her head to clear it a bit, resolving to do things the right way. That meant she needed a list.

She made her way to the kitchen after grabbing some parchment and a quill, intent on having a drink. Not the wine she had hoped for earlier in the evening, but she should get used to it. Making tea always settled her mind when things got to be too much and as she poured the boiling water over the leaves and into her favourite brown betty pot, she knew what she had to do. The steam from her mug swirled up and she inhaled deeply, the tang of citrus in her Lady Grey paired with the milk and sugar she added eased some more of the tension she now carried. Her first sip always cleared away the toughest cobwebs and this time gave her the wherewithal to start writing. Lots to do, lots of decisions to make, but first things first, a phone call and an appointment. Things never seemed to be easy, but Hermione was strong. 

She grabbed the muggle cell phone she had gotten before their foray into the war and placed it in her purse. It wouldn’t work in Grimmauld Place, too much magical energy around, but this gave her an excuse to get some air and it wouldn’t hurt to pop down to the shop again and get a pregnancy test. Hermione wanted to do things the muggle was as much as possible and even a magical pregnancy scan could be traced. She locked the door behind herself and headed down the street. Hermione pulled the phone out once she was a couple blocks away and looked up a number, dialing and holding it up to her ear.

“Yes, I need to make an appointment for a pregnancy test.” She said into the phone, pulling her jumper tighter as a cool breeze kicked up. “Thank you, that works fine. Thank you.” It was a brief call and when she placed the phone in her pocket, her mind was already made up. Her hand came up and settled on her still-flat stomach. “If you really are in there, it looks like it’s going to be just the two of us.” She whispered, before she dropped her hand and set off to the closest Tescos. She wanted something sweet and after the emotional roller coaster of a night she had just endured, she deserved it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione knows she can’t hide her pregnancy forever, but has no real idea where to begin? How do you start when you are young and broke? And what price can the Ministry place on saving the lives of everyone in the Wizarding world?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to the fabulous Paia for the beta. You really are a lifesaver! This chapter is up a whole week early! This story has taken on a life of its own and I am so grateful to all of you, my dear readers, for coming on this journey with me.

If the little blue lines on the stick in Hermione's trash hadn’t dimmed the last bits of hope that Ginny had been wrong,then the doctor’s report erased them completely. A lot of things would have to change, again, and rather quickly if she wanted to hide this from the wizarding world at large. Hermione organized her lists and was wondering how on Earth she was going to afford anything. The little savings she did have wouldn’t last long. She would need to work. 

Hermione also had to decide if she wanted to move out into the muggle world completely. That was one of the hardest decisions to make at this point, since she had already decided to have the baby. If she did, she worried that she would miss the wizarding world and the many conveniences magic offered her. But if she chose to have the baby and raise it around magic, she would eventually have many invasive questions about the paternity of her child, and that was not something she could reveal to anyone.

She had contemplated contacting Professor Snape to let him know but stopped short of even penning a single word. He was still in St. Mungo’s recovering, according to Harry, and besides that, he had no idea what she had done to save him. Part of her mind niggled with the thought that he should have some say in whether or not she had the child, but since she was determined to do this on her own, there was no need to tell him.

Ginny had been by a few times after Hermione confirmed her pregnancy, and it was nice to have support during this time. She was able to bounce ideas off Ginny and get opinions that differed from her own about staying in London or moving elsewhere. 

“Well, you are more likely to run into people you know, or that know you if you stay,” Ginny noted as they sat on the floor of the sitting room, eating ice cream a few days before Harry’s birthday. “And it won’t be easy to find a job here. Well, that’s not true. You would be able to find a job in a heartbeat given who you are. But you won’t be able to hide a pregnancy very long then. The moment you start showing, Skeeter will be on you like a niffler on gold.”

“I know. I was thinking of moving. Not far, of course, but far enough that I have some anonymity, and still close enough to a magical community and a muggle city. But that all requires money that I just don’t have.” Hermione let out a sigh, her shoulders sagging under the obvious strain of it all.

“Well, Harry and I talked about that. We could loan you some starter galleons. Get you up and running and pay us back whenever. Or never for that matter.” The offer Ginny made was generous and Hermione’s initial instinct was to take it immediately. Then the small voice of her father echoed in her ear. 

“I appreciate that so much, but I was raised not to borrow money from friends or family. It’s the quickest way to ruin a bond.” Hermione sat back, glad the nausea was at bay today but knowing she would pay for all this sugar later. “Maybe I’ll apply in a muggle shop nearby and save up until I start to show. Then I can go.”

“Makes sense to me. Now, does this mean you won’t be coming back to classes either?”

“No. I already owled McGonagall and told her I chose to do private study and sit the exams with you all next year. The baby will be here by then, and hopefully I will be settled.” The response had been an understanding, if not disappointed one from her former professor. Of course Hermione had not told McGonagall why she had chosen this path. The secret would come out soon enough. “So what are the plans for Harry's birthday?”

They sat and talked about the party and Ginny told her they would announce their engagement then as well. Harry came to get Ginny as the sun set and gave Hermione a letter embossed in scarlet letters and sealed with the Minister of Magic’s official seal.

“Kingsley wanted me to drop this off, since he knew I would see you. He said we each got one. You, me, and Ron. I haven’t opened mine yet, either.” Harry pulled out an identical envelope. “Together?” Hermione nodded and they broke the wax together and pulled out the parchment inside.

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

_We hope this letter finds you settling into a new peaceful life after the war. We, again, can never truly thank you for the sacrifices that you and all of your peers made in the quest to defeat You-Know-Who. The ministry, at the insistence of several people including myself, have awarded you the Order of Merlin- First Class. We are also giving you, Ronald Weasley, and Harry Potter a monetary reward. The gold will be transferred directly into your account at Gringotts._

_The war could not have been won without you and we know that this title and some galleons will never ease the loss and pain that you feel, but we hope it helps you as you move forward._

_We understand you will be sitting your N.E.W.T. exams next Spring and we would like to extend the offer of a position in the department of your choice again, upon your graduation or any time before._

_Forever in Your Debt,_  
Kingsley Shacklebolt  
Minister of Magic 

Hermione finished reading her letter first, so she reread it to make sure she hadn’t missed something while Harry and Ginny finished his. 

“It says I’m getting an Order of Merlin and so is Ginny. Oh, and some money. How ‘bout you?” Harry asked as Ginny held the paper, mouth slightly agape.

“Same. That’s unexpected. Not the title, of course, but the money.” Hermione frowned. “I wonder how much…”. She trailed off. Not that it really mattered right now, but anything in her current state would help.. “I’ll check when I head to Diagon Alley tomorrow. I need to get a few things and pick up the present I ordered for the party.”

“It’s nice of them. At least they aren’t forgetting about what we went through for them,” Harry reasoned and turned to Ginny. “We gotta go though. Arthur said your mum expects us for a late supper to discuss my party.”

Ginny nodded and moved to hug Hermione, followed by Harry. She walked them to the door and said goodnight before cleaning up the mess they had made. Hermione spent a couple hours looking at job openings in the paper before heading to bed.

The next day Hermione made her way to Diagon Alley. She took muggle transport because she had woken up to being spectacularly sick immediately. She tapped the bricks behind the Leaky Cauldron and stepped onto the busy, cobbled street, munching on a saltine to settle her stomach. She headed straight to Gringotts to find out what she had in her account. Hermione was stopped often to be given thanks or simply have her hand shaken vigorously so it took her triple the time to make it to the tall building. There were construction wizards and goblins perched on magically raised scaffolding as they worked to fix the dome that she, Ron, and Harry had destroyed when they broke out with the dragon. The guards eyed her with anger and she felt guilt trickle through her. 

Inside wasn’t much better. The large hole in the floor had been mostly mended, but the ancient, decorative wooden parquet floor was gone and Hermione noted the dwindled number of goblins working in the main room. She had heard of the wrath of Voldemort after he found they had gotten into the Lestrange vault and her guilt grew immeasurably. When the one at the counter verified her identity, making sure he did it in quadruplicate, he handed her a slip of paper with her new balance and Hermione let out a yelp of surprise. Everyone turned to look at her and she cleared her throat and scurried out into the bright street again. 

Hermione moved towards an outdoor table at the coffee shop and tried to stay calm. Surely it had to be a mistake. While she had a reasonably healthy savings, there was no way it would have done the things that needed to be done. But this, this was too much. She sat in the sunshine and opened the parchment she had nearly crumpled in her shaking hands and looked at it again. One million galleons. That was the price the Ministry had put on saving the Wizarding world. Part of Hermione thought she should refuse the award. It was not like they did it for the celebrity or the money, well maybe Ron did, but she needed it. Especially with a baby on the way. She stuffed the note in her pocket and ordered an English Breakfast tea to go.

The shops were bustling. Hogwarts letters would have gone out recently and many of her former classmates were there, grabbing new books and potions ingredients.. She nodded and smiled politely but tried to avoid any conversations that lasted longer than pleasantries. She was in no mood to rehash the war. Hermione filled her list of items, even splurging to get a few books on ancient magics and their aftereffects that she had been eyeing for some time. She stopped in Quality Quidditch Supplies and grabbed the special broom repair kit she had ordered for Harry, too. On the way out of the Leaky Cauldron she ordered the shepherd’s pie - it was her favourite. After casting a warming charm on it, she climbed on the bus home.

Back at the house, she settled in and finished her meal, all the while flipping through her new books to see if they said anything about children concieved from blood and sex magic. This was all new territory to her, and it wasn’t like she was prepared to go to anyone and ask. Hermione made a few notes, yawning softly. It was barely one and she was knackered. With another stifled yawn, she cleaned up her dishes and bookmarked her places in the books before going to take a kip in her room. 

That evening, she opted to go out to a quiet little pub she had grown accustomed to. It offered free wifi and a relatively decent menu. Hermione wished that the magical world would get with the times and integrate modern electronics into their world. It would make things so much easier. America had already moved in leaps and bounds in that direction. She took the booth in the back and pulled out her laptop, connecting it, and began the search for a home of her own. That was the first course of action she had settled on when making her lists. It seemed the most important. 

Hermione knew she wanted to stay as close to a Wizarding city or town as she could. While pregnant it would be easier to drive to get things she needed than have to floo or apparate, seeing as how it made her sick each time. Her research on the WWWW, or World Wide Wizarding Web, brought up several places she wasn't aware had such magical communities. Cardiff and Holyhead seemed to be nearly perfect. They were far enough away to grant her some of the anonymity she wanted, though close enough to London to still visit her friends. There were listings of homes, in both magical and muggle neighborhoods, in all price ranges. Hermione was nothing if not practical. She had no need for a great manor home, even though she could afford it. No, a cottage would be fine, provided it had a large enough space for her books, a garden, small potions lab, and room for a child to grow. Her food arrived and she barely picked at it as she saved a few places and scheduled a trip to view them in the following week.

Feeling decidedly better after having accomplished something, Hermione paid her bill and ambled back to Grimmauld place. She sent an owl to Ginny to see if she would accompany her to the tour of homes and went back to her research on children conceived under magical circumstances. Even after her long nap that afternoon, Hermione found herself tired again shortly before midnight. She suspected it had more to do with the stress of everything than the actual pregnancy at this point, but she would not risk it. She changed into her pyjamas and slid into bed, extinguishing the light with a soft ‘Nox’, quickly succumbing to sleep.

A few days later found Hermione and Ginny galavanting around Wales, looking at cottage after cottage. They were all lovely but none had particularly caught her eye yet. She may not want something extravagant and a waste of money, but she could afford to be a little fussy.

“Did Harry tell you what my idiot brother did when he saw how much the Ministry awarded him?” Ginny asked as the bounced along the road in a muggle bus towards Holyhead.

“He didn’t, but I can only imagine.” Hermione rolled her eyes. Stories in the paper noted that the youngest Weasley son had been on quite the spending spree and had been snapped with various floozies hanging off him at any given time. Hermione would have laughed if it hadn’t been particularly pathetic and sad.

“Well other than flaunting it all over Britain and buying useless shit like the best racing broom, He dropped nearly half of it on a mansion he found. I went and saw it and it was utterly rubbish. Run down and not as grand as he thought it would be. But he is dead set on getting it fixed up and having parties to rival the Malfoys.” Ginny was laughing so hard she had tears in his eyes. “Oh and he is suddenly so popular that he has marriage proposals from every corner. And he seems to be trying to bed every witch with a pulse under thirty. Idiot’s gonna end up knocking a witch up and being forced to marry her.” Ginny stopped when she saw the change in Hermione's face at that. “Shit...you know what I mean. This is different. You had a moment of bad judgment, he can’t keep his wand in his pants.”

“It’s alright. I'm sure a lot of people will think poorly of me when this comes out.” Hermione fell silent and looked out the window as they approached the town that had a bordering magical village. She had been trying to decide what to tell people about the paternity of her child. “I think I am going to tell people I used muggle artificial insemination to get pregnant.”

“Why? I mean if you feel you need to, I understand, but muggle medicine baffles a lot of wizards. If it wasn’t for my dad's obsession with them, I'd have no idea what you meant.” Ginny reached out and touched Hermione's arm, drawing her attention back to her. “And besides, a one night stand in the aftermath of the war will not make a single person bat an eye. You won’t be the last one with a beginning of the year baby.”

Hermione hadn’t thought of that. She supposed it made sense. It was the same way after the world wars in the past. There was a reason middle aged people were called baby boomers. She nodded and gave her friend a smile.

“You’re right. Of course you are. I'm so glad to have you and Harry on my side. I don’t know what I would do if I was completely alone in this.”

“Pfft. It’s nothing. We are family, after all.” Ginny grinned back and looked out onto the homes they passed as they entered the town center. “Oh I wish I could play for the Harpies after school. Maybe we can swing by and see the pitch and get some recruitment info before we leave.”

“Of course.” Laughed Hermione. Ginny's excitement was contagious, and soon they were walking the streets in search of the homes for sale. Hermione met with a realtor who was also a witch and showed her a few homes. In the end, one of them spoke to her. It was a cross between a Victorian cottage and a modern muggle townhouse. The outside boasted a large fenced yard and masonry while the den and bedrooms were comfortable and brightly lit. The kitchen and bathroom were outfitted with modern appliances and a shower that could easily fit three. There were three bedrooms and a study, and hidden behind a magically concealed bookshelf was the lab and store rooms. It called to Hermione.

“Because this lot sits on the very border of the magical and muggle villages, it can be rigged with cable television and internet as well as connect to the wizarding wireless. It's the best of both worlds..” the relator babbled on but Hermione was not listening anymore. She was focussed on the house and wandered away from Ginny, trailing her fingertips along the masonry. A tingle of old magic made goosebumps rise on her warm skin and she smiled, turning back to the two women. 

“I’ll take it. Right now.” Hermione said firmly, striding back. “Can it be closed on by the end of the week?”

“The end of the week?” 

“That would be what I asked.” Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

“Yes. I suppose it can be.” The realtor was taken aback and consulted her papers. “Though if you are taking a loan out, the bank may need…”

“I am paying in cash. Muggle or Wizard is your choice. I can have it in hand by the end of the business day.” Hermione didn’t want to wait. This was the house for her and her child, she felt it in her bones.

“Well, alright. Let's go back to the office then.” Hermione and Ginny followed a bit behind the cleary dumbstruck realtor.

“What did I just witness?” Ginny's voice was low enough not to carry as she asked with confusion.

“I found my house.” It was a statement of fact.

“Clearly, but you had a whole list of ones to see still. Are you sure?”

“I am. I can’t explain it but that house, my house, is perfect. Like it was made for me...us.” She lay a hand on her still-flat stomach. 

“If you’re sure. I mean it is lovely. And reasonable.” Ginny shrugged and they continued on.

Less than twenty-four hours later, Hermione was a homeowner. She spent the morning packing her belongings at Grimmauld place, and Harry and Ginny helped her floo it there, so she didn’t have to make as many trips and risk the nausea. They hugged her and said they would see her at the party in a week before leaving her alone.

In the middle of the living room, Hermione looked around and smiled. It felt like home already. She unshrunk the minimal furniture Harry had told her to take from the house in London and arranged it. She would set about ordering her own things the next day, but for now, she sat down on the old, faded sofa and relaxed. She was moving on and things finally looked bright. She cracked open a muggle novel about a brilliant detective and his partner that solved crimes together and settled into her new life.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry celebrates his birthday and while he and Ginny bask in the glory of their engagement, Hermione receives devastating news. She must deal with things she never thought possible as she realizes that her secret will be out sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Paia again for the amazing beta.

Hermione settled into her, no their, new home as well as she could in the following weeks. She still hadn’t taken the time to purchase much more than what she brought over from London. She spent a few days doing a deep clean of the house and layering her own wards over the old ones she had found there. This house seemed to have deeply imbedded magic, and Hermione was keen on spending time on it, but first she had to get ready for a trip to The Burrow for Harry’s birthday. 

The nausea that had plagued Hermione so often in the beginning had subsided, well mostly. She could floo much better now, and so she dressed in a loose sundress and sandals, shrunk Harry’s package before sticking it in her small bag, and stepped into the emerald flames. She closed her eyes as she spun through thousands of grates and only stumbled a bit as she landed on the hearth rug of The Burrow. 

The place was thrumming with happy voices that spilled out into the back garden. Hermione followed the familiar voice of the youngest Weasley, giving tight smiles and polite nods to those that greeted her along the way. She laughed as she stepped over a pair of garden gnomes fighting over a discarded party hat and made her way over to set the gift on the table laden with fancy wrapped presents. She turned and scanned the crowd and found Ginny and Harry, arm in arm, talking to Luna and a young man Hermione didn’t recognize.

“Hermione!” Luna called as she caught her eye and waved enthusiastically. Hermione couldn’t help but smile back at her and moved to stand with their small group. “This is Rolf Scamander. He just got back from America. We have been intimate for a few months.” She said matter-of-factly.

Harry spat his pumpkin juice out and Ginny thumped his back. Hermione's eyes widened, and Rolf blushed so deeply, it looked as if steam might blow from his ears at any moment.

“That’s...wow. Ok. Well congratulations.” Hermione held back a laugh. “Wait. Scamander? Any relation to N…”

“Yes. Newt is my grandad,” Rolf calmed, clearly getting asked that many times in the past.

“Must be so interesting, being related to someone that brilliant.” Ginny was rubbing Harry's back as he coughed.

“Rolf’s going to take me to hunt for Crumple Horned Snorkacks as a graduation present.” Luna said dreamily. Hermione knew it had always been Luna's dream to find the creature, even if they all figured it was not real. Rolf excused himself to get them refills of drinks, and Luna turned her too-observant eyes on Hermione. “So when is that little girl going to join the world?”

Hermione gaped at her and then looked accusingly at the couple to her right. They both held up their hands and shook their heads.

“We didn’t say anything, ‘Mione. We swear.” Harry looked as if he feared she might curse his bollocks off.

“Your aura has changed. That’s how I knew. Normally you are a light blue, like the bluebell flames you always conjured, but now it is edged in a deep green.” The explanation floored Hermione as Luna kept talking. “I've not seen that deep of a green since…” 

“It’s a secret, Luna. Please don’t tell anyone, I beg you. Only Harry and Ginny know and I don't want the news to get out.” Hermione cut off what Luna had been about to say just in time. Luna nodded and tilted her head, bright, protuberant eyes reading more than Hermione cared to know. She was looking for an escape when an owl dropped an official letter at her feet. She bent to pick it up, and looked at it in confusion. Shrugging she tucked it in the pocket of her dress.

“What is that?” Ginny asked.

“No idea. I’ll look later. So, have you made your announcement yet?”

“We were just about to. Thanks for the reminder.” Harry and Ginny drifted away towards the center of the crowd.

The announcement went about the way Hermione had expected; cheers, tears, and well wishes. Someone, Hermione suspected it was George, produced a few bottles of elf wine and Ogden’s best and began to pass them around. She declined, feigning an early start to the following day, and no one questioned her. 

Hermione drifted around the Burrow, speaking with several acquaintances, fielding questions about her future, and was in a deep conversation about the newest article in Transfiguration Today with Dean Thomas when a commotion arose from the area of the garden shed that held the Weasleys extra boomsticks. She turned in time to see Ron virtually prancing down the lawn with some trollop with long red hair and dressed in the slinkiest dress one could imagine would be legal in any public space.

With her stomach dropping to her knees, Hermione stood, trying to make it inside before she was noticed by the newly arrived couple. Luck was not on her side this time it seemed, though, as she heard her name being called in that oh-so-familiar voice. 

“Oi, Hermione!” Ron called after her, nearly dragging his date towards where she was rooted to the spot, barely glancing at them over her shoulder. She could see Harry and Ginny share a look, and they tried to head him off and give her an escape. Luna was at her side, hand on her arm, pulling her towards the door. Hermione didn’t fight it and sat in the armchair. 

“Thanks, Luna.” She sighed.

“Anytime. I’m gonna go see if I can cause a distraction, help you get some time to decide to stay or go.” The soft kiss Luna dropped to the top of Hermione's head surprised her and she smiled as she watched the oddly endearing girl wander back out to the crowd.

The party had been a great deal of fun and Hermione hadn’t intended on leaving quite yet, but seeing as how the last time she had seen Ron had ended the way it did, she didn’t really want to deal with that now. Hermione shifted to get more comfortable and felt the letter still in her pocket and pulled it out. With a shrug she opened it and skimmed the missive. She made it barely a quarter of the way through when she fainted, letter fluttering to the ground, her body slumping in the chair. 

Just as she began to slide down off the chair, Ginny wandered in to check on her. She rushed over and screamed, “HARRY!”

Within moments, the thundering sound of running feet echoed off the walls as Harry, the Weasleys, and half the surviving Order rushed into the cramped room, wands in the air.

“Gin, what is..” Harry broke off when he saw Hermione on the ground. “What happened?” He rushed over and helped his new fiance lift Hermione up to lay her unconscious body on the sofa. He stepped on the letter and ignored it.Molly rushed over to run a diagnostic spell.

“Just found her like this,” he said. They exchanged a concerned look, but Molly sighed in relief.

“She fainted. Something must have given her quite a shock.” The Weasley matriarch explained and every single head in the room swivelled to find Ron standing in the doorway.

“Don’t look at me like that!” Ron exclaimed defensively. “I have more right to be here than she does. She’s the one that went mad and hit me..”

“After you all but demanded sex, Ronald! Get out of here!” Ginny stood and pointed to the garden. Molly, surprised by by what she was hearing, shook her head and issued everyone but Harry and Ginny from the house.

“Prat.” Harry muttered as he cast a muffliato spell to immediately drown out the raised voices and commotion from outside. Ginny turned to get some water when she noticed the parchment that lay on the rug.

“What’s this?” She asked and Harry shrugged. Ginny picked it up and as she read, she gasped and put a hand to her mouth. “Well I know what caused her to faint now. It’s her parents.”

“What? Is that the letter she got earlier? Did they get their memories back or something?” Harry stood and moved beside her to read and his face fell. “Shit. Poor Hermione. She can’t catch a break.”

They looked up as Hermione stirred and woke. They knelt beside her immediately, Ginny brushing her hair back as the tears fell from Hermione’s eyes as soon as she opened them and remembered what she had read. Harry handed her a handkerchief which she took gratefully.

“We read the letter. We are so sorry, love.” Ginny soothed, keeping her voice soft and low. Hermione struggled to sit up. 

“I want to go home,” were the only words Hermione could manage between sobs.

“You go. I can handle everyone here.” Ginny told Harry as they both helped Hermione to her feet. Harry nodded and pecked her cheek before Hermione leaned into him and they flooed back to her place. Once they were inside the house, the wards began to soothe her.

“It’s my fault.” Hermione whispered in a childlike whisper after finding her way, emotionally drained, to her own chair.

“What? How could you think that? You weren’t even there, ‘Mione.” Harry said incredulously, shaking his head and standing to face her.

“Exactly. I saved them from Death Eaters only to send them to Australia to their own deaths.” She blinked away more tears. “And if I was stronger, smarter, they would have been back here and safe.”

“Smarter? Stronger? Bloody hell, Hermione, you are brilliant! What you did before was what needed to be done, and we weren’t exactly getting help like we should have.” She just shrugged. Harry sighed and closed his eyes a moment before continuing. “And this could have happened if they were here just as much as there. Drunk drivers aren’t just a problem in Australia. I’m sorry you never got to say goodbye or tell them you love them again, but be happy for the time you did have. Honour their memories and lives. Would they want you to beat yourself up about it?.”

That did it. Realizing that Harry had experience with this helped. He had felt the same when Sirius died and when he found out why his parents had been needlessly killed. She couldn’t change it, and she sure as hell wasn’t ok with losing them, but she could fall apart now. Especially not when she had someone else relying on her. She settled a hand on her belly as she stood and then wrapped her arms around her best friend.

“Thank you. You’re right, this wasn’t because of what I did. I can’t get them back and that hurts like hell, but I can carry on their name proudly.” She sniffed and pulled back. “I need to be alone for a bit. Tomorrow I will have to get their things in order. I'm sorry for ruining your day.”

“Stop. You didn’t.” Harry squeezed her hand and gave her an understanding smile. “If you need us, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks Harry.” After wiping her eyes, Hermione handed him back his handkerchief with a small smile. “Now go before your future mother-in-law kills her son.” 

Harry laughed as he whirled away and Hermione went to make tea and take a relaxing bath. She deserved it.

The next few weeks went by in a blur of roller coaster emotions and paperwork. Hermione was able to magically alter her parents will with their new names but still naming her as the executor and beneficiary. She arranged for them to be buried in the family plot near Surrey, even setting a memorial service in Australia for their friends there. She traveled there and back, exhausting herself and triggering her morning sickness more times that she could count. 

By the end of August, she had packed all the things she wanted to keep from her childhood home, including some baby things of hers that her mother had kept in storage, and sold what she didn’t need. The house went on the market and had a few nibbles but, as she was not in need of the money, she was in no hurry to sell. She also started an account at Gringotts for her child's future. She filled her new home with memories of her parents and her life, pictures lining the walls and comforting furniture placed around the ones she bought herself.

On September first, it was painful not to go to the platform to leave for Hogwarts or to see her friends off, but it was for the best. She couldn’t deal with all the inevitable questions that would come from it nor the paparazzi, especially since she had just begun to show. It wasn’t drastic, merely looked like she had finally been able to eat properly and take care of herself, but enough that most of her clothes had to be magically resized. She knew she couldn’t keep the secret much longer but didn’t want to share just yet. With a sigh, Hermione pulled on her shoes, ignoring her swollen ankles, and headed to catch the bus to the grocery store in town, enjoying her freedom from judgement for just a little bit more.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time has come for the baby to burst into the world with the same dramatic flare as its Father. Is Hermione prepared for the changes she will go through now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks, as always, to the utterly irreplaceable Paia for her support and guidance Not to mention her Beta’ing prowess!

Hermione had dealt with a lot in her short life. Many of the things she had done were life threatening and yet this baby, it seemed, was destined to make her life miserable until it was born more than anything else had been able to. She was glad the money allowed her to not have to work because no sooner did she enter her second trimester than every single symptom she had heard about hit her all at once. She was tired no matter what she did or didn’t do, she retained water, her nipples were tender, and just the smell of tea made her stomach turn. If she went anywhere, she made sure she knew the quickest route to the loo because even the thought of water made her have to pee and a glass of pumpkin juice gave her the worst heartburn. She felt as if her body was falling apart but she powered on.

The muggle obstetrician she had found in town was sweet and gave her the knowing look of someone who had heard this all before. She was not much older than Hermione and didn’t judge her when she told her the false story of the mystery man. Everything looked normal and was going according to whatever chart they went by and she told Hermione of some ways to relieve stretch marks and deal with indigestion and other tips, Hermione making notes in the little day planner she had taken to carrying with her to appointments. They made a follow-up appointment for just before Halloween to do an ultrasound to see if they could get a good view and tell the sex of the baby.

After she stopped at the shop to get more antacid pills, Hermione opted to take a cab home. It wasn’t a long walk but she was tired from missing her now-normal midday nap. In the back of the cab she rubbed her bump and looked out at the passing buildings, her mind drifting to the wizarding world. She missed it. Her friends, Hogwarts, even her enemies. She missed it all.

When Hermione arrived home, the wards wrapped around her like a hug and she sank into her desk chair. She had put this off long enough and couldn’t avoid it any more. Especially now that she was invited to Grimmauld place for the holidays. She had to make her pregnancy announcement. She just couldn’t decide how to let everyone know, but cause the least amount of stir. She sighed as she picked up a quill and then got lost in thought. Everything was going to change now whether she wanted it to or not, but she couldn’t stay away forever.

Hermione had decided the best course of action was to let someone she trusted leak the news. She could have waddled into Diagon Alley or Grimmauld Place and let the rumour mill start churning, but this way she had some control over what information was being disseminated. Since the war had ended, the Daily Prophet was less desirable for anyone who sought more truth in their news, having lost the respect of so many magical communities for all the shite it allowed Rita Skeeter to post. Nowadays, the Quibbler was the news to read if you wanted the true story. 

After her return from Malfoy Manor and the battle, Luna had taken the reins firmly from her father. Xenophilius hadn’t come back from Azkaban the same and wanted a quieter life in his garden. Sure, there were still the conspiratorial pieces and the magizoological pieces that Rolf now contributed, but all in all, Luna ran the paper well. Hermione dipped her suspended quill and penned a letter to Luna to publish in her next edition. The missive was a simple announcement of her pregnancy, not giving details of a father or anything, simply stating the mother and child were doing fine and asking that all well wishes be sent to the magical post office box Hermione had set up in the village’s wizarding owl post office. This would hopefully cut down on the howlers that found their way into her home and also would keep the hounds at bay from her front door.

Hermione decided to send private owls to McGonagall and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley so they didn’t find out the news through gossip or the magazine. She finished the letters and posted them, yawning widely and rubbing her belly. The sun was setting now and Hermione made herself a light dinner, curling up in her dad’s old chair to eat and read an old trashy muggle romance novel she had gotten from her childhood bedroom. It didn’t take long for her eyes to droop and her book to slip from her lap. She made her way to bed, sleep finding her easily.

The announcement was published a few days later, and all hell broke loose. Hermione got a frantic owl from the post office that her box was overflowing and she needed to come immediately. She had been caught up in research and doing her N.E.W.T. revision and hadn’t even really paid any attention to the little bit of post she had gotten after Luna let her know when it would be printed. A tingle of nervousness crept up her spine as she changed into leggings and an oversized sweater. There was a slight chill in the air as she approached the post office and stepped inside. The clerk looked relieved.

“Miss Granger, finally. We have had an influx in owls lately, all for you.” The harried clerk explained as he disappeared through a door and came back with three large sacks full of letters. He plunked them each on the floor at her feet, her mouth hanging agape. “We put stasis charms on the howlers. They are all in that bag,” he pointed to the furthest one. “And the others are just regular. We didn’t check for any dark magic or spells, we just don’t have the facilities for that.”

“That's fine. I am so sorry about this. I can figure out what to do for the future.” Hermione sighed and shrunk the bags, putting all but the howler-packed one in her pocket. “Thank you.” 

Holding the minute bag gingerly in her palm, Hermione headed back out onto the quiet village street. She padded slowly to the pub and popped inside. There was a small fire in the grate and she tossed the howlers in, silencing the screeches that erupted from the flames as the nastiness was incinerated. She turned and ordered herself some bread pudding to take home before hailing another cab. Her feet hurt.

Hermione wished Ginny could be here to help go through the mountain of papers in front of her but knew she had classes. A quick floo call to Hogwarts had McGonagall stepping through to Hermione’s sitting room.

“Ach, Miss Granger,” the headmistress began, but Hermione stopped her.

“Hermione, please professor.” Hermione said with a nervous smile. Would her mentor be disappointed in her?

“Then it is Minerva to you as well.” Minerva crossed the room and wrapped Hermione in a warm, motherly hug. “I was so sorry to hear about your parents, lass. And now to hear you are expecting, all alone, I understand your desire not to return to school, but you could have told me sooner.”

“I didn’t know if I could even do this and didn’t want everyone to know until I was definitely past the danger period.” Hermione explained as she summoned a warm teapot and invited Minerva to sit. She told her of the beginning days of finding out and how scared she had been. And then she waved her hand towards the pile of letters and notes. “I let Luna make the announcement since I can’t exactly hide it any longer.” Her hand fell to her rounder belly again, a common gesture these days. “I hoped you might be willing to help me check for hexes or curses and possibly go over them and respond if necessary.”

“I would love to. It shouldn’t take long with the two of us.” Minerva sat her tea cup down and drew her wand. She crossed to the pile of papers. “Revelio.” The letters shifted as if a wind ruffled through them. After a moment, a few dozen letters fluttered up into the air and glowed a pale red. Minerva flicked her wand and they erupted in a spray of sparks, disintegrating. “There, the rest should be safe. Let’s get started, shall we?”

The next few hours were spent in companionable conversation as they plowed through the notes. Any that were negative or judgemental were destroyed by Minerva immediately, while the nicer ones were saved separately. The Weasleys had told her that she could come to them with any questions and that she was still considered their daughter. That brought tears to Hermione's eyes and she had to take a break to calm down. Friends from school wished her well and her former professors at the school sent her a care package of things to help with nausea (Madam Pomfrey), a charmed book that would hold itself above water for baths (Professor Flitwick), and even a small child’s toy broom (Madam Hooch). Even Trelawney sent an odd prediction that Hermione ignored. All told, most letters were positive and encouraging. She had a few requests for interviews that she politely declined and she and Minerva penned thank yous to everyone else. Then Hermione stood to hug Minerva and thank her, she gasped softly.

“What is it, Hermione? Is something the matter?” Minerva asked with worry lacing her voice. Hermione looked up at her with a smile on her face.

“No. Not at all. I just felt the baby move.” She choked out as tears welled in her eyes.

“That’s amazing. You sit and I’ll get you dinner from Hogwarts before I go. You should be off your feet.” Minerva grinned. After a quick floo call, a tray of all of Hermione's favourites popped into existence on her coffee table. “Winky asks about you often. I knew she would know what you wanted.”

“Thank you so much for today, Pro- sorry, Minerva. You were a great help.”

“Ach, no, Hermione. I need no thanks. A child of yours will be just as brilliant I am sure, whether they are magical or not. Now I must go. Come by anytime or send a message if you need anything. The school is open to you.” Minerva dropped a tender kiss on Hermione's hair and flooed away, leaving her smiling as she ate.

In mid October she met with her obstetrician to have an ultrasound. They had hoped the baby would cooperate and she could find out if it was a boy or girl. Much to Hermione's annoyance, the little one seemed determined to show their behind the entire time, no matter what the doctor tried to get them to move. She left disappointed but found herself laughing on the way home. 

“Just like your father and your mother; stubborn to a fault.” It was the first time she had referred to Professor Snape as the father and it sobered her up right away. “Best not to go down that road.” 

Between revision, research, and the baby, the next two months seemed to fly by. She was now waddling so much she feared her hips might give out. The doctor had given her the all clear to travel for the Holidays and Hermione was looking forward to seeing her friends again. It had been too long. She had worried about how Ron might react to the baby but Ginny told her that Ron would not be there for Christmas. He had been hoodwinked by the woman he had brought to Harry’s party. Hermione found out that her name was Anna and apparently she had told him she was pregnant and rather than have it checked, Ron married her. 

Anna wasn’t pregnant, as it turned out, and when Ron found out he tried to annul the marriage. Wizarding law stated that she would still be entitled to half of what he was worth and he chose to stay with her rather than risk his meager fortune. He was kept away from his family by his wife and they rarely saw or heard from him now. Hermione felt a bit of pity for him but it was short lived when she remembered how he had treated her. Still, he had been her best friend and she hoped he would work things out. 

The festivities were enjoyable but they made Hermionie feel a bit out of place. Harry and Ginny had each other as did Rolf and Luna. The other Weasleys in attendance were coupled up or married and even Neville had brought Hannah Abbott with him. They were all kind and tried to include her in the activities, but Hermione found herself drifting off on her own and flitting between groups and conversations as if she were a fly on the wall. It felt like she didn’t belong any more. She excused herself to bed early on Christmas Eve, feigning exhaustion. It wasn’t a stretch, to be sure, but she just needed to get away from everyone's happiness. It was cloying.

As she drifted off to sleep some time later, she had an errant thought as to what Professor Snape might be doing to celebrate the holidays. Harry had mentioned he had been released from the St. Mungo’s a month or so before. He met briefly with Kingsley, only long enough to find he had been cleared of all charges and had virtually disappeared. Hermione sighed softly, a hand absently stroking her belly as she fell asleep.

The next day was better. Fewer people and more enjoyable as they all ate and opened presents. Harry and Ginny had gotten her a certificate to Flourish and Blotts and she also received candy and a load of things from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes from George and the rest of the Weasley clan. They listened to the radio and talked about things. When the baby moved again, Hermione let Ginny and Harry feel the fluttering kicks and it felt good to share this with someone. 

Ginny had taken it upon herself to plan a small baby shower for Hermione for the 29th of December so Hermione stayed at Grimmauld place for the week. Several old school friends and acquaintances came, including the Patil sisters and Ginny had even invited Minerva. The morning of the shower, Hermione took a bath and grunted as she felt a low cramp in her abdomen. She had read about Braxtron-Hicks contractions and knew she was still a month out from her due date and wasn’t worried. The pain was negligible and infrequent so she brushed it aside and enjoyed the party. She was gifted baby clothes and toys, all sorts of diapers, both muggle and magical, and even given a lovely crib and bedroom set from the staff of Hogwarts. Minerva smirked as Hermione noticed all the decorations and bedding were in Gryffindor colours. A smile broke Hermione's train of thought as she thanked everyone and tried not to picture the colours changed to green and silver.

Hermione stayed until the new year and, after shrinking and packing everything away to take home, she thanked Harry and Ginny, hugged them and went out to catch the Knight Bus back to Holyhead. The cramps were coming more frequently now, but they remained manageable. Hermione avoided potions when she could because she didn’t want to affect the baby, but after the bumpy ride home, she downed half a weak pain potion and left the unpacking until the next day. It felt good to be back inside her own home and she changed slowly into her nightgown and slipped into her own bed to sleep.

Over the next few days, the pain increased incrementally. Sometimes it would be barely noticeable and others would have her bent nearly double as it took her breath away. She had an appointment scheduled for the fifteenth and assumed she could make it that long. She was wrong.

She woke in the early hours of the ninth of January to deep ache and sharp pain in her lower back and she felt her abdomen clench like a bad menstrual cramp. Hermione gasped as she tried to sit up. Within ten minutes, there was another one. She glanced at her clock and made a note of the time. She tried all the tricks that seemed to help before; walking, cold glass of water, all to no avail. Nine minutes later came another and then another nine minutes after that. And they were getting stronger.

“Bollocks!” Hermione swore as she tried to get into some leggings and a shirt. She barely slipped her feet in her shoes when another hit and she felt a wet warmth spread in her groin area and slightly down her thigh. Definitely labour then. She phoned a cab and called the emergency number for her doctor, trying to remember her breathing. She barely remembered to send Harry and Ginny a patronus before she was picked up and whisked painfully away to the hospital.

It seemed that the cramps she thought had been Braxton-Hicks were really just low grade contractions and she had been in prolonged labour for nearly a week. Hermione was taken to delivery immediately, her doctor already there since she had just delivered another baby hours before. The sun was barely above the horizon when Ginny rushed in, having just apparated from Hogwarts. She was breathless and still in her night clothes as she was allowed to go to Hermione's side.

“Got here right away. Figured Harry can come after.” She took Hermione's hand and tied her bushy hair back from her face. “You doing ok?”

“As well as can be…” Hermione grimaced as another contraction hit, her hand tightening in Ginnys, teeth clenched. When it passed she panted. “Expected. Doc said it won't be long now. Will you stay in the room with me?”

“Of course. I need to go change before the nurse has a coronary. I’ll be right back.” Ginny left the room to get booties, a mask, hair cover and smock on. Then she scrubbed her hands before being allowed back in. “This little one doesn’t do things in halves, do they?” She smiled and Hermione shook her head with a chuckle.

The doctor was right, within two hours of getting to the hospital, Hermione was being told to push. Every time she did, it felt as though she was being torn apart from the inside out. She barely had time to catch her breath between contractions and she was so tired she couldn’t even concentrate on the encouraging words from Ginny. When the baby crowned, Hermione knew the next few pushes would be the worst. The shoulders needed to come and then it would be easier. Tears streamed from her face as she struggled to find the strength but powered on for the sake of her child. As the tremendous building pressure broke and she felt the baby moving easier, she slumped back onto the bed, eyes closed. Ginny wiped her brow before she heard the shrill cry of the baby. 

Hermione's eyes flew open. The baby was safe. She had to finish it because now all she could think of was holding her child. She used her remaining strength to sit up again and continue to push. When the baby was free the doctor handed them off to a nurse to clean and perform the tests while Hermione passed the placenta. She had asked to keep the afterbirth and cord, knowing there were some potions they could be used in. Her legs were taken from the stirrups and the nurses helped her settle back as one brought over a yellow bundle with a flash of midnight curls peeking out over the top. Her baby was laid on her chest, arms gripping the newborn carefully as she pulled the blanket back to see a tiny little scrunched face.

“You have a beautiful daughter, Miss Granger.” The doctor announced with a smile. “You can have a few minutes and then she will need to be taken to the nursery for more tests since she was early and we can get you cleaned up and to your room.”

Hermione nodded with a sniffle and glanced at Ginny. “Luna was right. A little girl.”

“She always seems to be. Congratulations, Hermione.” Ginny traced a finger on the little girl's cheek, the baby’s mouth seeking a nipple already. “Have you already thought of a name at all?”

“Yeah…” She glanced lovingly, eyes still streaming as her daughter opened her eyes just a bit to show hazy blue eyes and Hermione grinned, wondering if they would turn chocolate brown like hers or continue to darken to the deep obsidian of her fathers. “Alora Dawn. They both mean light and I thought that we could use some more light in the world.”

“That’s beautiful, Hermione.”

They came and took the baby and got Hermione settled in her room. She rested as Harry and Minerva came to congratulate her and when they brought Alora in, having been cleared, they all cooed over her.

“Ginny, Harry, I was hoping you would be the godparents. I know you will have custody of Teddy after you are married, but it would be nice for Alora to have you and him to grow up with.”

“Oh, ‘Mione...of course. We would be honoured.” Harry was nearly blubbering now and Ginny rubbed his back.

“And Minerva, my parents are gone and Alora is going to need a Grandmother.” Hermione looked up at her mentor questioningly.

“Ach, Hermione. You know how to melt an old witch's heart.” She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. “It would be my pleasure to call her my granddaughter. I also thought you might like to know that when Mr. Potter informed me the baby was born, I checked the book that lists everyone's name that will be invited to attend Hogwarts. Her name is in it.”

“That’s great news. Thank you, Minerva. Thank you all for the support and friendship through all this.” Hermione’s eyes drooped sleepily and Alora began to fuss. The nurse entered the room as if she had been listening in on their conversation, which, Hermione mused, she probably had been.

“Time to go, everyone. Mum and baby need to eat and rest.” She ushered everyone out and helped Hermine get Alora to latch on to feed and then left her alone. Hermione sighed exhaustedly, running her fingers in the dark curls that covered her daughter’s head. 

“Your father had the same hair, though it's straight. You have my eyes and thank Merlin you have my nose too.” She laughed to herself. It was then that she noticed the date written on the white board on the wall that they charted her vitals and schedule. “You truly are Severus Snape's child.” 

Across the country, in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere, a still recovering and isolated Severus Snape felt his magic shift and something made a shiver run up his spine. He was on guard immediately but found his wards intact and no sign of anything or anyone in the vicinity. He shrugged it off warily and looked at the muggle calendar and glowered upon discovering it was his thirty-ninth birthday. With a frown to rival the best of them, he mumbled huskily to himself as he went back to reading.

“Happy Birthday to me, indeed.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After juggling her studies for N.E.W.T.s and caring for an infant, Hermione must face the rumours that swirl around who fathered Alora after she takes the child out into the wizarding public for the first time at the Potter-Weasley wedding. All Hermione wants is to live the quiet life in her Holyhead cottage with her daughter but idle hands are the devil’s playground and soon Hermione decides to go into business. Will an unexpected run-in at the ministry derail everything she has worked so hard for?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for their patience with the delay. In this chapter. With the Covid-19 pandemic and everything surrounding it, I just couldn't find the energy to write without putting out something i wasn’t proud of. Hermione deserved better. The next chapter will be quite the change of pace and I have already started it. 
> 
> As always, thanks to Paia for the beta and the encouragement.

The hospital kept Alora for a week because of her early birth, though Hermione had been released the next day. She still stayed around the clock to make sure she was there to breast feed her daughter and spend time bonding with her. She wouldn’t tell anyone, but she had snuck her wand in late one night to do a scan which showed that Alora was in perfect health, but she let the doctors and nurses do what they had to. 

When Hermione brought Alora home for the first time, with Minerva by her side, she was surprised to find the house completely clean and aired out. She walked back to the nursery and gasped.

“Luna, Ginny, and Harry came up and did all this for you. I granted them leave.” Minerva explained with a smile as she bounced the baby in her arms.

Dealing with the pregnancy and revision for her N.E.W.T.’s had left Hermione with no real motivation to decorate the nursery. Couple that with the fact that she didn’t know if she was having a son or daughter, and she simply had not gotten around to it. She had set up the crib and changing table, each a blonde wood, and had put the neutral coloured clothing she had gotten in the matching dresser at least. But now the room was fit for a little witch. 

Luna had clearly used her artistic skills and painted each wall a different scene; one was a bright blue sky with big fluffy clouds and birds, dragonflies, and butterflies fluttering about while small figures flew about on brooms. Another was a garden scene at dusk, the rainbow of colours reflecting on a small pond while fireflies glittered in the dying light of the sun. When Hermione turned to the third wall, she smiled. It was a Hogwarts themed collage. There were the house banners fluttering in an invisible wind, bouncing badgers bounding around with lions whose manes danced in the breeze. Ravens flew circles over them and serpents wound their way around the other’s feet, their forked tongues darting out with sly smiles. The centerpiece of the mural was the front gates of the school with the crest between the winged boars. The last wall, the one which Alora’s crib was set against, was the most spectacular thing Hermione could imagine. 

What the art lacked in colour it made up for in dramatic detail. Dancing around and weaving between one another were a Niffler, an Occamy, a Mooncalf, and a Thunderbird. They frollicked on the stark white wall, all in shades of grey and black with the merest splashes of brilliant colour. The glint of rubies and emeralds could be seen peeking out from the dark fur of the Nifflers pouch. The Occamy had splashes of turquoise and magenta spread sporadically along its lithe body. Hermione caught the eye of the Mooncalf and nearly lost herself in its ocean eyes but it was the flash of gold lightning that sprung from the tips of the Thunderbirds wings that drew her eye last. The bird soared up to the top of the wall and threw its wings wide causing the bolts to fork off across all four walls and Hermione could swear she smelled rain at that moment.

“This is too much…” tears sprung to Hermione's eyes and turned to look at Minerva. “You have all done so much for me. I don’t even know how to thank you.”

“Ach, Hermione. We will have none of that talk. We all care about you and this little trouble maker. And mark my words, she will be.” Minerva smiled warmly down at the infant. “We won’t let you do this alone.” She handed Alora over to her mother and took a deep breath. “Now, I have to get back to the school. Can’t leave Filius in charge too long or it will go to his head. Be sure to send an owl if you need anything and I will approve weekend visits for anyone that wants to come see you and help.”

“Thank you, Minerva. For everything.” Hermione smiled as the older woman bent and pressed a kiss to Alora’s unruly hair before leaving to floo back to Hogwarts. Hermione bounced Alora in her arms and turned to look around the room again. 

“Well, little one, it looks like it’s just us and Crookshanks now. I promise that I will try to be the best Mum I can be for you. I will teach you everything I know. Well maybe not everything because that is quite a lot but I will make sure you know what you need to survive in this crazy world and I will protect you with everything I am.”

The baby cooed a bit and yawned. Hermione took that to mean that the baby accepted what she was saying and settled her in her swing as she began to get settled into her new role as a mother.

The next few months were a bit of a blur in the Granger household. Very quickly, Hermione found that she simply was not producing enough breast milk to properly feed Alora. Therefore, much to Hermione’s sadness, Alora required formula. It wasn’t something she could just spell into being or even learn about in a book and Hermione felt like she was letting her daughter down and Hermione hated failing at anything. The bonding time they missed due to this was just another weight on Hermione’s already overladen shoulders. 

Between the feedings, changings, and general parenthood, Hermione was spending every waking, and many, many, half-awake moments studying for her N.E.W.T.’s. Her friends took turns coming by to watch Alora or study with her and they even all enjoyed the Easter holiday at her home in Holyhead. It was a nice break for them all, but soon it was right back to work.

When the date of the testing was announced, Hermione began to stress out even more. Her emotions, in turn, caused Alora to be upset. They had figured out early on that Hermione's moods greatly affected her daughter’s. She flooed Minerva in tears one day, a couple weeks before the tests, because Alora wouldn’t calm down and she couldn’t either. Minerva was there in an instant and took Alora from her.

“I did say to call on me any time, Hermione. It is never a burden for me to spend time with my wee granddaughter. Go. Take as long as you need. I am free until tomorrow so no need to rush.” Minerva gently wiped away a tear from Hermione's cheek as she bounced Alora on her hip. The small gesture made Hermione's heart clench as she thought of her mother and all the times she had helped calm her when she got overwhelmed.

“Thank you, Minerva,” was all Hermione could say before scuttling away to her study room and putting up silencing spells before she broke down in tears. Hermione cried herself out, a catharsis she had avoided for too long, and then cleaned herself up and went back to studying.

It was Luna and Rolf that showed up to watch Alora every day of the tests. Hermione hadn’t slept much and yawned as she gave them the baby’s schedule. They waved her off and Hermione grabbed her bag of notes and went to the back garden to apparate to the gates. Hagrid greeted her with a hug and walked her to the castle.

“How’s the little ‘un, Hermione? Growing like a skrewt I bet.” He chuckled and Hermione pulled out pictures to show him. “She’s the sweetest thing. Looks just like you, except her eyes. They are so dark. And those dark curls are just lovely. Sorry I’ve not been round to meet ‘er. Been busy here.”

“That’s ok, Hagrid. I understand. You will meet her at Harry and Ginny’s wedding next month.” Hermione smiled and brushed off the comments about Alora dark features. She knew it wouldn’t do any good to talk about it because no one could know the truth. She already saw so much of Snape in her daughter that she was surprised no one had asked. Of course, why would they? Alora looked a bit like Harry too, truth be told, and she knew that someday she would field those accusations as well. With a sigh, she hugged Hagrid and headed into the school.

A week later, tests were done. Hermione was ready to drop from exhaustion, but she was too exhilarated to sleep. Many of the students coming back for their tests took rooms in Hogsmeade or stayed in empty beds in the castle, but Hermione was determined to stay at home with Alora every night. It was exhausting to either apparate back and forth but she wouldn't risk her notes by flooing. 

When the results came back, it was no surprise that Hermione got all O’s. She was happy as could be, especially to hear that so many others had done well also. Harry was a shoo-in for the Auror training program and Ginny had already gotten a letter from the Harpies asking her to come to open tryouts that fall. Neville was asked to apprentice with Madam Sprout, which he eagerly agreed to. 

The Potter-Weasley wedding was the only thing that anyone talked about, now that exams were over. Molly had come around to the fact that Hermione was a mother by someone other than her precious Ron, and had turned out to be a big help with Alora. The baby was growing quickly and was obviously as brilliant as her mother, already crawling at six months and well on her way to walking and talking. Hermione was often found in the kitchen of the Burrow with Molly, Fleur, and Ginny finalizing plans and making last minute changes.

“She's not as bad as she was for Bill and Fleurs wedding.” Ginny commented as they sat having tea in the living room while Alora and Teddy played in front of the fireplace. Teddy’s hair was a lurid shade of green today and Alora was enthralled by it. Hermione was glad they got along so well. 

“Probably because she knows you are so proficient in the bat-bogey hex.” Hermione mused with a smile, eliciting a snort from Ginny. “So, are you two set on moving in to Grimmauld Place when this is done?”

“For a start, yeah. But we talked and frankly there is too much work to be done to clear the dark filth from it and the memories to ever truly make it our home. Gonna wait until we get settled in careers to get one of our own.” Ginny sat her mug down. “How about you? Gonna try for a place in the Ministry?”

Hermione chewed her bottom lip, watching the kids for a moment more before looking up. “No, I don’t think so. I know that it would be a great opportunity but I just don’t feel like I’m cut out for that any more. I’d love to apprentice but I have to put that on a back burner until Alora is older. It’s far too time consuming to try to do with an infant.”

Ginny nodded and they fell into a companionable silence. “Let’s stop being so old and go check on mum. If we leave her alone too long you will all be wearing pink dress robes and carrying bouquets of fairies instead of flowers.” She chuckled and the mood changed to happiness once again.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and cloudless and Hermione took a moment in bed to imagine what it would be like if she ever got married. She used to picture Ron or even Viktor back in the day in those visions, but now you couldn’t even put a face to the wizard she walked down the aisle towards in her dreams. A deep sigh slid past her lips as the house alerted her to Alora waking.

Hermione fed and bathed her daughter and herself before flooing them to the burrow to get ready. Alora’s hair had baby’s breath scattered throughout her thick curls and she was wearing her first tiny dress robes. Harry and Ginny had her and Teddy as their flower girl and ringbearer. They were having a ceremony that combined wizarding vows and muggle traditions and Hermione appreciated her and her child's inclusion. 

The bridesmaids and flower girl all wore robes of an icy, arctic blue. It was the colour of a glacier, freshly calved. Harry had mentioned that it reminded him of the colour of a patronus when cast with the happiest of memories. Fleur fixed Hermione's hair, pinning it back and leaving her long curls to steam down her back. She hadn’t felt this beautiful since the Yule Ball and her heart clenched when she remembered that she had no one to appreciate it the way Viktor had.

It was a beautiful ceremony that left not a dry eye in the place. Hagrid blubbered from where he stood as a groomsman next to Harry, occasionally blowing his nose into his ridiculously large hanky. At the handfasting, Hermione and George joined hands with the couple and gave witness to their union, a thin, shimmering, yellow band of magic twining through their fingers to end up as simple gold bands of Harry’s and Ginny’s ring fingers. When Harry and Ginny kissed at the end, a cheer erupted from the crowd, causing the couple to blush.

Before the afterparty, there were pictures and an interview given to Luna for the Quibbler and then Hermione disappeared inside to feed and change an exhausted Alora into a sundress before laying her down for a nap. She took that time to change herself into a matching dress and relax herself. She heard happy voices outside through the open window and sighed again. Would she find happiness in her life the way it was now? She glanced at her sleeping child and smiled to herself. She needn’t worry about that. She had her brain and her daughter and that was enough for her.

The reception was a grand affair and was also a sort of coming out party for Alora. Her first time in true wizarding society was going well. All the guests cooed and awed over her, commenting on her eyes and hair and telling Hermione how beautiful she was and wishing her well. Viktor had shown up for the wedding and he was eager to speak to Hermione. When he saw Alora, the eagerness in his eyes faded but he quickly recovered and smiled, greeting her.

“Hermione, it is vonderful to see you again. And who is dis little one?” He asked, reaching out to shake her chubby little hand. Alora giggled and buried her face in Hermione's neck. It seemed she was just as flustered under his attention as Hermione had been.

“This is my daughter, Alora. It is so good to see you too, Viktor. I hear you have taken the post as deputy Headmaster and Flying instructor at Durmstrang. How is that going for you?” Hermione asked as they found a small table to sit at. They chatted until Alora began to yawn and fuss. 

“It seems I have taken too much of your time. I have missed you, Hermione.”

“I’ve missed you, too. Merlin, look at the time.” The sun had begun to set now and she realized how everything else had dropped away while they had talked. It felt nice. “ I need to get Alora home. It has been so nice to catch up. Write me, won't you?” She asked as she stood, shifting a sleepy Alora to her hip and smiling sincerely at him.

“I vouldn’t dare not to.” Viktor lifted Hermione’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “Be vell, Hermione, Alora.” He turned with a smile and disappeared into the crowd.

Hermione felt a bit warm and flustered as she sought out the newly married couple and bid them goodnight. They would leave the next day for their honeymoon in Greece. She hugged them both tight and then went inside to floo home. She settled Alora in bed with barely a fuss before retiring to her own room, visions of the faceless man at the altar invading her dreams once again.

The inevitable rumours of Alora’s parentage littered the front of the papers a few days after the wedding. Hints of it being Harry’s illegitimate child or even a brief renewed affair with Viktor, complete with a picture of them talking at the wedding, were the most prominent ones. Harry was quick to defend her honour and Minerva even stood up for her and admonished the writers and all those who believed the drivel. A few owls showed up at her rented box which she promptly destroyed. It was better, she thought, than them knowing the truth any way.

The next few weeks were spent looking for work. Logically Hermione knew that she was secure enough financially that she needn’t work but she hated idle hands. There were offers from the Ministry, of course, and several masters offered her apprentice positions in Transfiguration, Arithmancy, and even Charms. She thanked them all but explained she would rather spend the formative years of her child's life at home and politely declined them all. She found that a local wizarding bookshop was looking for a part time position and she jumped at the chance to work at a place where she felt so at home. The owners were an older witch and her muggle husband that were all too happy to watch Alora in the flat above the shop while Hermione worked. It seemed that everyone had started to settle into life after Hogwarts, but Hermione realized she needed more to occupy her mind than organizing the shelves in the small shop. 

“I think I need more to do.” She remarked to Ginny over lunch in Holyhead after she and Harry returned from their honeymoon. Ginny had been up to watch a Harpies practice.

“And running around after your prodigy of an infant isn’t enough?” They both laughed at that before Ginny sighed. “You never were one who could be content to just relax. So what are you thinking?”

“I was thinking of starting some sort of business from home. That way I am still there for Alora and I definitely have the space. There are a lot of options and its hard to choose.”

Ginny pursed her lips in thought, looking out the large window of the sandwich shop. “Well, the easiest would be potions. I mean you could do spellwork by order but some of that would require you to travel to the customers home or location to perform the spells effectively. Potions would allow you to brew at home.”

“Oddly, I thought the same thing.” Hermione nodded as they got the check and she paid, ignoring Ginny’s protests. “And think of the garden that I can start at the cottage. Grow my own ingredients.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Ginny joked before standing and giving Hermione a hug goodbye. “Give that baby snuggles and kisses from Harry and I.”

“Will do. Thanks, Gin. It’s nice to have an adult to talk to. Alora isn’t great at giving advice quite yet.” They bid each other farewell and Hermione returned to work. After work, she researched the requirements to have a legitimate owl order potions business and found her ‘O’ in potions was enough. All she needed to do was go to the Ministry to file paperwork and patent her name to get the required license. 

“Easy enough.” Hermione said to herself and she sent a request for the papers by owl that evening after putting Alora to bed. Hermione realized she missed making potions. Sure, she made the ones she needed at home for her and Alora and the occasion one for a friend that asked, but she realized she could do so much more. She may never have gotten outright praise for her effort, but the fact that she was rarely berated for her brewing was like the equivalent of high praise from any other professor.

Thinking of that brought up memories of Professor Snape and the classes and she felt a pang of sadness, wondering how he was doing. Hermione also worried if she had done the right thing by not seeking him out to check on him herself but knew that she could not trust that she wouldn’t blurt everything out once in his presence. Besides that, she had no idea where he was.

There had been little news of his movements after his recovery and even less since they announced he would have a trial at the Ministry in the near future. This enraged her and Harry to no end. Harry had provided evidence of his sacrifice and shared the memories that pertained to the war with the Wizengamot. They all said they still needed his testimony as a formality. In the end, they had no say in what the Ministry did. That decision, it turned out, made Harry mad enough to turn down the Aurorship and instead work with Arthur in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, a place that at least he could make a difference with his knowledge of muggles.

On the following Monday, Hermione dropped Alora off with Molly before heading to the Ministry, paperwork in hand. She still turned heads as she walked through the halls and she tried to ignore the whispers that followed her. It took the better part of two hours to get everything signed and stamped and wrapped up, but just after one o’clock, Hermione strode through the lobby towards the apparition points, the proud proprietor of ‘Masterful Mixes’, an owl order potions shop for all occasions. 

Very proud of herself, and beaming as she planned a shopping list for Diagon Alley, Hermione didn’t hear footsteps approach behind her in the empty hallway. She nearly lost her folder as her heart dropped to her stomach when a familiar baritone spoke behind her. One that was rough from lack of use and healed injury. One that always commanded her attention in even the quietest tones.

“Good afternoon, Miss Granger.” 

With a hard swallow and all the nerve she could muster, Hermione turned and looked into those obsidian eyes. The very ones she had seen the life nearly drain out of on the filthy floor of the Shrieking Shack fifteen months before.

“Good afternoon, Professor Snape.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus Snape never expected to survive this war. He had been raised, much like Potter, as a lamb to slaughter. Perhaps a wolf in lambs clothing was more appropriate but nevertheless, he was supposed to make the ultimate sacrifice. So what will he do now that he is alive in a world he never imagined a future in? Is his life still forfeit, only to Azkaban instead of the Veil?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, folks! After five months, I have finally got my head back in my Snape space and here he is. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to Paia for the Beta!

Severus Snape had awoken in St Mungo’s in more pain than any mortal should be able to endure. The disorientation was nauseating - he still felt the burn of Nagini’s venom coursing through his veins, while the hot knives he felt at this throat were the punctures and tears the great snake had left behind as she tore at him, doing her master’s bidding before they left him for dead. Through all this, he barely uttered a sound, stoic as he had always had to be, even during the worst Cruciatus.

He was alive, he knew that, but how? Why? He had come to terms with the idea, no, the fact that he would die for Dumbledore’s damned greater good. He had prepared, of course, for the eventuality. The Dark Lord had been using Nagini more recently to punish those he deemed traitors and he assumed, correctly it seemed, that she would be used on him. After Arthur Weasley’s attack, Severus had worked in secret from his masters to create an antivenin and always kept it with a strong blood replenisher on his person. But when the attack happened, he had been too weak to grab them, let alone ingest them. So who had done it? 

Severus spent weeks in St. Mungo’s as he convalesced. He only allowed two visitors during that time, Minerva and Potter. Minerva had always been close to Severus and he had regretted having to treat her the way he did to protect her that final year at Hogwarts. He prepared himself to be chewed out but instead was surprised when she hugged him and thanked him for his service. He gaped at her, unable to speak due to the wound.

“Harry explained it all. What you had to do, dear boy...that was too much to lay on one man’s shoulders. I am sorry I didn’t do more to help you.” He saw tears in her eyes and was once again surprised. She left after another hug and he just lay there, dumbfounded. Potter must have shown her the memories. Who else had seen them? That question was answered when Potter came to visit a week later.

“Hullo, Professor.” The boy looked sheepish, face still bruised with healing cuts and abrasions dotting his skin. “I know I can’t stay long and that you can’t talk, which is probably a good thing.” He chuckled nervously until he saw the scowl Severus gave him.

“What I mean is, I came to thank you. For all you did over all the years to protect us all. I mean, you were being tugged two different ways and had to hide so much. I would have been a right git, too.” Another, deeper scowl hurried him along. “That is, I mean, just thanks. You are the real hero in all of this.” Harry gave a small smile and nod and turned to go, but then he stopped. “Oh and you have two Order of Merlins awards, First Class, waiting for you. Heal well, Professor.”

When left alone again, Severus let his frown relax. This was turning into a very odd time. He hated praise, had never been good with it, and the attention he was bound to recieve was not going to be something he enjoyed. He knew he needed to disappear, sooner rather than later. He had to start planning his escape. So far Severus had been watched on a schedule, not only due to the need for regular bandage changes on his neck but also, he suspected, because many still believed him to be a threat and wanted to make sure he stayed put. 

The chance Severus needed came a few days later when the mediwitch left for her regular lunch break, and her replacement seemed delayed indefinitely. Severus eased his still worn out body off the bed. His feet hit the cool tiled floor, and he shivered slightly from the breeze that ruffled the gaping gown over his backside. He glanced around and found the robe he wore on his short daily jaunts down the hall and pulled it on. Time was getting away from him as he tugged open drawers and cupboards in search of decent clothes and his wand. Severus knew he was in a bad place when he found nothing but extra bandages and a bag that he assumed held clothing. Clearly they thought he was a threat and had confiscated his wand. Not that it mattered. Severus was accomplished in non-verbal casting but it would take so much more energy. He grabbed the bag with his bloody and torn clothes that had been sitting in the bottom of the cupboard and slipped out of the room as quickly as he could.

He had been surveying the layout of the first floor each time he was taken out to walk around and found the employee door unwarded. Severus supposed they had little to worry about on this floor, housing all the magical creature attacks. It wasn’t if any of the patients might wander and get lost like those in the Janus Thickey ward upstairs. Severus found the employee apparition point after a torturously slow venture and took a deep breath. He braced himself for apparition, worried because it was much harder to control without a wand. Severus closed his eyes and focussed on his childhood home in Cokeworth. Using every remaining ounce of his strength, he spun on the spot. A soft ‘pop’ broke the silence of the hall.

Severus barely managed to make it through his wards and across the threshold, stumbling and tripping over his own two feet before he crumpled to the dust-coated floor in the entry of Spinners End. His legs had given out and he couldn’t even find the energy to deal with the small spliching he had endured in his barely completed journey. His eyes slid shut as he passed out, oblivious to the small puddle of blood pooling under his legs. The sweet pull of oblivion was more important.

The next time consciousness found Severus, the sky had darkened as night fell and he groaned. He dragged himself up to stand, noticing his gown and underpants were sticky but unable to see why in the darkness of the hallway. He leaned heavily on the wall and made his way to the stairs. The switch clicked loudly in the empty house and the stairwell flooded with dim light. It took longer than he would have cared to admit to make it up those 13 stairs, having had to stop every couple of stairs to catch his breath. 

When Severus finally made it to his en suite bath, he sat down on the closed lid of the toilet. He panted from exhaustion and pain and dropped his head into his hands, fighting tears. Severus allowed himself a few moments to break down before turning on the taps to fill the large tub and began to peel the robe and gown away from his skin. That was when he noticed the blood. And the stench of his own urine. He must have lost control of his bladder during the apparition or after he passed out. He had experienced the same reaction after bouts of the Cruciatus whe the Dark Lord was displeased. Either way, he threw the garments away and inspected his leg. The wound was not bad. A small, perfectly round hole, as if someone had taken a melon baller to the flesh of his thigh. It was something he would easily be able to clean in the tub. Only minor scarring would be left and that would barely be noticeable among all his other scars. 

The water was equal parts soothing and grating on Severus’ body as he sank into the tub. He relaxed in increments as he dropped his head back onto the porcelain. He had a lot of decisions to make - and fast. There was no telling how long it would take for them to notice he was gone or how long until they thought to check for him here. But right now he just tried to breathe. 

Sleep tugged at Severus’ body, but he fought the temptation by washing himself and getting out. After wrapping a towel around himself, he moved towards his desk against the wall in his bedroom. He unwarded it with a nonverbal spell, glad for that ability since his voice was still weak, and pulled out a long, thin, dusty box from the far back of the bottom drawer. It held his mother’s old wand. He had found it hidden away after his father died and kept it as a memento. Now, as he grasped the willow wand, feeling it warm in his hand as it recognized the Prince bloodline in his veins. He had tested the wand before to see if it would answer to him and, though not as powerfully as his ebony wand, it would have to do until he could figure it out. 

While he dressed and gathered things to pack away and take with him, Severus wondered if this would put him in the ‘on the run’ category officially. He hadn’t done this to draw more attention to himself - quite the opposite, in fact. He just wanted to get away from it all. At least for long enough to heal and understand his place in this new world - a world he had been destined not to live to see. Severus packed all the personal belongings he had in one bag and the other filled quickly with all his potions and the ingredients that were able to be taken easily. Shrinking them down, Severus slid them in the pockets of his trousers and took one last look around his home. This building that had never held more than a smattering of pleasant memories for him and he walked out, slamming the door and warding it, not looking back.

Assuming himself a fugitive or war criminal, Severus traveled the muggle way and avoided any wizarding areas he knew about. He had taken a stash of muggle money he had hidden away in Spinner's End and dressed in a simple white button down and dark trousers with a plain cap pulled low over his forehead. This was the first time he was ever grateful to have been forced to live without magic when at home. His mother’s old wand felt foreign yet oddly comforting where it was strapped to his forearm as he sat quietly in a foul-smelling bus that chugged its way from Cokeworth towards Cornwall. 

Severus had first contemplated fleeing the country altogether but with his weakened state and the fact that he worried they would trace his magic, he opted to simply head south and move again when he was stronger. He knew that the Malfoys had a relatively small cottage somewhere near Cross Lanes that they had only kept for Lucius to disappear with a mistress or two. It hadn’t been used in years and Severus knew the wards would accept him. He only hoped it hadn’t been seized by the Ministry after the war.

Carefully transferring busses and staying hidden in the back of each one, Severus finally arrived in Cross Lanes with a heavy sigh. He hurt like hell from the time on the bumpy bus and his neck ached as he hailed a cab to take him to the cottage. To anyone else, it looked like a derelict building, uninhabitable by anyone, but the wards shimmered when Severus stepped out of the cab. Waiting until the car was gone, he raised the arm that still held a now faded dark mark and crossed it over his chest. The wards shifted, recognizing him, and allowed him entry. Severus walked through them into a perfectly manicured front garden, disappearing from sight to the outside world. Only once he was inside the stone cottage did he let his shoulders sag and his body relax. 

The place was empty, furniture covered and curtains drawn, but clearly spells had been used to stop dust from settling. The air was thick with the smell of disuse mixed with the salty sea air, and Severus finally felt the fear in his chest loosen minutely. He ached from head to toe and all he wanted to do was to sleep but he knew things needed to be done first. Having his mother's old wand would make the trace of his magic less noticeable as long as he kept the spells to a minimum. 

A slow walk through the living room and bedroom and a few flicks of his wand had the covers folded and vanished to the laundry and the windows were cracked open to allow the stale air to freshen. The kitchen was clean and organized though empty of any food, which meant he would have to travel to town to get supplies, but that could wait until the following day. The sun was already beginning to set as he finished getting the bedroom functional again. He unshrunk his bags and took his potions to the bathroom where he cleansed and applied healing ointment to his still-mangled neck. 

Severus covered the wound and stripped from his clothes, climbing into the unfamiliar and far too soft bed. He wished he could trust that he would be safe and take a Dreamless Sleep draught but he wouldn't risk it. It was too soon. So he closed his eyes and waited restlessly for the nightmares to come as he slipped off into the unwelcome darkness of sleep. He didn’t have to wait long.

_ First came the screams. Wizards, witches, muggles, and children all screaming as they were tortured, attacked, murdered. The hissing laughter of Voldemort as they fell silent, one by one. Bellatrix’s maniacal cackle as she stepped over the bodies that littered Malfoy Manor. Then the dream morphed. Now it was Dumbledore's face, begging Severus to kill him, to end the pain and take his place in the grand scheme. The blank look on the rumpled man's face as he fell from the Astronomy tower coupled with the betrayal on Minerva’s face made him squirm in the sheets. _

_ Then a new dream began. It was less dark, less foreboding, not really a nightmare it would seem, though it started from one. He lay unconscious, bleeding out on the dirty floor of the shrieking shack. The footsteps of the Golden Trio had died away and he sat, the edges of his vision fuzzy and darkness rolling in. He lay for some time or none at all, he couldn't tell.  _

_ Then a faint sound, a voice. A whisper that filled his head as he tried to focus unsuccessfully. Perhaps this was an angel, here to take him away to the afterlife, usher him from this mortal coil. The being cared for him and Severus simply gave into it, wanting the pain, the fear to end. He felt movement and warmth surrounding him but couldn't identify if he was being moved or if it was just in his deteriorating mind. Before he succumbed to the darkness that had been threatening to overwhelm him, he heard his angel say something in what seemed to be Latin. It was the only thing he clearly heard, though his brain was not up to the task of understanding.  _

_ “Tibi corpus meum de, castitatem, et vitam.” _

Severus woke with a start in the unfamiliar bed, disoriented and tangled in the blankets. He sat up, chest heaving, eyes darting around the dim room as he tried to remember what he had just seen. All of the dreams and nightmares were blending together, muddied with the tinge of each other and they quickly slipped away from him and even a growl of frustration helped little. It had been important yet it was gone. He flopped back down, wincing as the movement tugged at his tender, healing skin. He would find out what happened one day. The dream might not even be the truth. It must have just been his mind, exhausted and warring with itself, creating a more pleasant image to help with the trauma he had endured.

He sighed as he slid from the bed then, all thoughts of sleep wiped clean, and made his way to the bathroom once again. After washing his sweat glistening face, he took a pain reliever potion and decided to settle at the small ornate desk in the living room and start coming up with a more long term plan. Anything to avoid sleeping again. As he picked up a quill and started to write, Severus realized how truly alone he was at this moment. No side or light nor side of dark to fall back on. No one to talk to and a life stretching out ahead of him that had never been an option before. It was terrifying. That was a new feeling for Severus Snape. The future was here and he was unprepared.


End file.
